------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The SWPG's Neverending Story (15 Jun 1985 - 20 Jan 1986) A Tale of Manly Action in 165 Parts including "Avenging The Guild" by Whipsnap Rap Edited in June 1992 by "Count" Lazlo Nibble /\/oo\/\ Written by the callers of The Fourth Reich BBS All individual posts Copyright 1985, 1992 by the original authors ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ::: Foreword (1985) :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ This file is a compilation of the first thirty-six chapters of The Neverending Story from The Fourth Reich BBS. The Neverending Story is fast becoming a BBS tradition -- simply put, a Neverending Story is a sub- board where different people write chapters to a story, each one building on what has gone before. This kind of story is a great exercise in creative writing, because the authors have to adapt to all kinds of strange situations. A person may think he has a great resolution to a situation posed before, only to log on and find that the bad guy is suddenly in posession of a tactical nuclear device. We've tried to keep this thing vaguely believable, and, with a couple of exceptions, I think we've succeeded. You can judge for yourself . . . all the chapters appear here exactly as they appeared on the Fourth Reich. I think that of all the Neverending Stories I've read and taken part in, this one is one of the best. Of course, I'm far from an impartial observer, seeing as how I have a leading role . . . Enjoy! /\/oo\/\ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Subject:PART ONE-IN THE BEGGINING Number:1 From:RIP Date:06/19/85 It was a cold and windy night, the car engine purred a real horrorshow. watched as the street lights flew by. Our car made it's waydown eubank towards its unkwon destination. Subject:Part 2 - The Plot Thickens Number:2 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:06/19/85 The stereo was on full, playing Glenn Frey's Smuggler's Blues as our red and white '57 T-bird roared towards the freeway with the top down. The staff meeting had been a general success, and after we had closed the McDonalds where we had discussed the finer points of software piracy and explosives manufacture we moved on to a rousing session of Marble Madness at the nearby San Mateo Putt-Putt. Now we cruised the near-empty streets, psyching ourselves up for the first real Guild project of the summer. It was to be a hit. Not a hit in the Mafioso sense -- we were not so crazy as all that -- but a hit in the George Hayduke sense. "Fuck 'em over and fuck 'em over good." Our target? Who else? Dave "The Asshole" Staehlin. This was the night that we had been planning for weeks. By the time dawn broke, the man we called Numbnuts would wish he had never been born. Rip drove, I navigated. Nomad and Prince Phun rode in the back seat, keeping their eyes open, "scoping muff" as the younger members of the Guild are wont to do. But Rip and I had already been laid that night, and our minds were on things. Where was Space? The presence of the eldest (and tallest) member had been sorely missed at the meeting. Phone calls to his home and to Wargames were unsuccessful. We hadn't yet equipped the members' cars with two-way Citizen's Band radios, and so we had carried on without him. "Probably latched onto some tail," commented Rip as he shifted the huge vehicle into fourth gear. "What I can't understand is that his sister said he was on the way," I said, "and it was only three-thirty. He should have been there by five, no matter HOW bad the traffic was on Academy." "Who can tell?" commented Prince, his first non-female-related comment of evening. "Cop," said Nomad as we passed Wyoming. Whoops, I had missed that one. "Yeah, I see him," said Rip as he slowed down. We had been doing nearly sixty. I turned to get a better look at the police car as he turned on his lights, and then I noticed . . . "Oh shit . . . Rip, get us out of here. There are FOUR of 'em . . . and think they have shotguns . . . " Subject:The Chase Scene-The First Day Number:3 From:RIP Date:06/20/85 Rip put the peddle down. The car responded with a sudden burst of speed that t ok me unawares. Phun was in the back trying to buckle his seat belt while Noma d was stareing back at our pursuers. I looked forward as we approach the intersection of Candelaria and Eubank. "Watch out!" yelled Phun as Rip almost piled into a Porche in front of us. "Calm the Fuck down" snapped Rip He pulled the wheel into a hard right as we lurched into the cross-street. "what are we going to do, I don't what to be busted" said Nomad. "I bet the fucker Staehlin ratted on us" I commented. "I don't care how it happened, all I want to know is what were going to do now" responded Nomad. "Well I know What I'm doing!" laughed Rip. He reached forward a flipped three switches above the radio. A small guage to t e side started reading gas percentages. There was a sudden growl from the hood as the engine recieved new energy. The wheels laid down a rubber road. The speedometer read 95 as we scooted in and out of traffic. "what was that?" asked Phun "NITRO" screamed Rip. "Count," Rip turned to me,"change the damn music, I don't think that the Euryth ics fit this scene." Subject:. . . Number:4 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:06/20/85 " . . . aliright," I said, slipping another tape into the deck. Rip's reaction to the change in musical styles was abrupt and violent. "AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH," screamed the suddenly-uncontrolled driver, as blood began to gush from his ears and the car bounced off the median of the road. "Heh heh, sorry, Rip." I pulled out Prince and the Revolution and replaced it with Black Flag. "I forgot." "IF YOU FORGET AGAIN I'LL RIP YOUR FUCKING LUNGS OUT THROUGH YOUR ASSHOLE!" "Strangely appropriate," commented Nomad. Prince Phun got his two cents in too: "Also disgusting." The cops were gaining on us and a couple of them were hanging out the squad car windows, aiming various implements of destruction in our direction. Not a smart move at speeds approaching 100 miles an hour. Especially considering that we were approaching a road construction site -- with the obligatory infinite orange barrels . . . Subject:Bang Bang-Your Dead Number:5 From:Rip Date:06/20/85 Rip slowed the car down as he recovered from the sudden shock to his system The police pressed on. "THEY GOT GUNS!!" shouted Nomad. "No problem." countered Phun smugly. He reached under the seat and brought up nylon bag,"we have an equalizer." I looked at the nylon bag, then at Phun, who was starting to smile, then to Rip who was laughing again in the same old maniacal way. "Let's go for it!" yelled Nomad. Phun reached into the bag a returned with what looked like a canning jar. It h d a long fuse protruding from the top. Our car had started into the construction area. Rip was laughing as he slipped in and out of the barrels. The second car of the pig pack was lungeing forward past the first. I could see the face of the man who help the 20 gauge pump out the window, he looked totally confidant of a kill. The car swayed, I almost fell out as Rip took the turns to hard. The police tr ied to follow, put accidents will happen. The first in the group underestimate a bump. It cost him as the car tipped over on one side, rolled and then bulle ted into a apartment biulding. The was a resounding explosion and a cheer went forth from the Chevy as faggot bit the big one. Subject:... Number:6 From:MIDI AMIN Date:06/20/85 THIS NEXT ONE WAS GOING TO BE A TRICK. FOR THE POLICE, KNOWING RIP'S TENDENCY TOWARD THE DRAMATIC, WERE NOT GOING TO DISAPPOINT HIM WITH A SIMPLE CAR CASE. THE COP HAD A HUGE AND OBVIOUS GRIN AS HE FLICKED THE SWITCH ON HIS DASHBOARD. NOMAD JUST HAD TIME TO TURN AROUND AND FINISH SAYING, "OH, SHIT!" BEFORE THE HEADLIGHTS ON THE PURSUING CAR HAD SLID COMPLETELY AWAY AND THE MODIFIED MACHINE GUNS HAD FINISHED LOCKING IN PLACE..... Subject:The plot is thick. Number:7 From:Nomad Date:06/20/85 Then suddenly Nomad cries out "Shit how can I be so stupid!" Prince Phun replied "You were born that way, it's not your fault." "What the fuck are you talking about Nomad?" Count asks. "Rip, see that flashing button in the corner?" "Yea" "Push it, it's my latest mod to the car, I hope it works." Nomad usually said that, and they usually never worked on the first try. Suddenly as Rip pushed the button platforms began to move out of the side of the car and our 57 T'bird became a Harrier Jet. We took of just in time, the pigs had just begun to use all their firepower on us. "Hey let's go pick up Space" says Rip But just as we started to turn around the wings of the plane . . . Subject:Boy-Talk About Plot Twists Number:8 From:Rip Date:06/20/85 .....started to buckle under the strain of liftoff. I worked to control the so me what unbalanced craft, but it was to no avail. Our car started towards the ground. "I thought you said this would work!" shreaked Phun. "It should off, the lift co-efficant was correct. It should of worked!" returned Nomad. "Woould the both off you please SHUT THE FUCK UP!" ordered Nibble," We have to get ready to crash." " Your confidence in me is un-ending, isn't it Count?" I said sarcasticall y Our car was no moving to an imminate crash. I pull back all I caould and m naged to us down near the mountains. Our poor car shrugged as we plowed into t he dirt mounds. The car finally slid to a halt. I looked back and say both Phun and Nomad rapidly evacing the car. I grabbed my bag and followed their example. "What do we do now?" said Phun as we jumped into a small gully. " Sit tight" said Nibble. In the distance I could hear the sirens of our pursuers. They were getting louder.... Subject:. . . Number:9 From:MIDI AMIN Date:06/20/85 ...WE LISTENED IN THE DIRRECTION OF THE APPROACHING SIRENS. SOON, WE SAW THEIR DIRRECTION AF APPROACH: THROUGH THE ARROYO. REALIZING THIS TO BE AN ILLEGAL ACT I USED A TRICK THAT I LEARNED FROM DAVE STAEHLEN. MOVING QUICKLY, I OPENED MY BAG AND PULLED OUT A POLAROID AND FLASH AND QUICKLY TOOK A PHOTO OF THE COP CARS IN THE DITCH. ONLY ONE PROBLEM: THE COPS REALIZING THAT THESE PHOTOS COULD BE USED AS EVIDENCE, CHASED US AS IF THEIR JOBS DEPENDED ON IT, BECAUSE THEY DID. WE RAN AS FAST AS POSSIBLE THROUGH THE DITCH UNTIL THE COUNT SAID TO GO UP THE EDGE. A S WE ROUNDED THE TOP, WE SAW THE ONE CAR THAT WAS CHASING US, BUT NOT THROUGH THE ARROYO, SITTING AT THE TOP..... Subject:Point Two For Our Team Number:10 From:Rip Date:06/20/85 "Well were doing no good up here!"shouted Nomad,"were sitting ducks!" As Nomad spoke, Phun pulled up his little bag. "Here," he said as he handed a bottle to me," You know what to do, you mad he thing!" I pulled out my lighter and started flicking it. After a few times at this I realized that the lighter must be out of fluid. Suddenly Nomad pulled out one of his contraptions. "Try this." he said. As I pulled it closer, he pressed a small stud and there was a flame. "thanks!" The fuse sparked to life as I pulled back my arm. The pig-wagon drew close r and let my arm go. "Hit It!" shouted. There was a resounding 'Boom' as the bomb hit it's target. It entered thro ugh the front windshield, and landed in the driver's lap. The bomb was one of my standard anti-personnel types. As it went off the passengers were burned to death by a mixture of red phospherous and butane. The the central core blew and hurled white-hot fragments in all directions. One made its way to the gas tank. "Viscious shit" commented Nomad. "Neato-kean" added Nibble. "Score two for our side!" cut Phun "It's all in the wrist!" was all I could muster for occasion..... Subject:on with the show Number:11 From:prince(wanna have some) phun Date:06/21/85 A few sirens were still in the distance but the team eluded them easily. "Wher e are we?" Asked Nomad. We seem to be around LA some place" answered RIP. "v ry fucking close to daves!" commented p un. ""Do you always have to cuss?" ask d nibble? "Fuck yea". the team hiked ts way to daves which was about two mil s. We got to dave the dicks house and it seems he went psycho on us. "So th ts where Space was!" exclaimed RIP. Dave was holding on to space with a .44 on his head. he was screaming "JUSTICE WILL BE DONE! !!!!"....... Subject:The Plot Sickens Number:12 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:06/21/85 I had never seen Space look as helpless as he looked tied to that chair (with the exception of one time that Rip and I had accidentally walked into his living room while his girlfriend was kneeling in front of him on the floor), and my mind raced as I tried to think of how we could save him from the maniac Staehlin. As usual, Nomad and his bag came to the rescue. Dave was screaming wildly at us to stand back, or, as he put it, "The tall asshole gets it in the esophagus!" But he seemed not to notice as Nomad reached into the bag and pulled out a small wind-up mouse, which he placed on the floor. The tiny creature then rolled slowly in Dave's direction. "You bastards have crashed my board, raped my wife, killed my kids and taken over the country," raved Staehlin, "plus I woke up this morning and I was out of napkins! YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!!!" "Hey, when did we take over the country?" whispered Prince. Rip hissed back under his breath. "While you were in the bathroom, stupid." "We didn't, Prince," I broke in. "Dave thinks we did. He's insane." "I HEARD THAT!" screamed the sweating Staehlin. "I may be insane, but your pal here is DEAD!" Slowly he began to squeeze the trigger . . . Subject:TENSION CITY... Number:13 From:MIDI AMIN Date:06/21/85 ...AND THE SMALL WIND UP MOUSE ROLLED RIGHT INTO DAVE'S FOOT. DAVE, WHO WAS FREAKED OUT ALREADY, FREAKED OUT EVEN MORE. HIS NEXT ACTION LEFT A SMALL PILE OF USELESS METAL AND FAKE FUR. SPACE PASSED OUT AND FELL TO T HE FLOOR WHILE THE REST OF US SEIZED THE OPPORTUNITY TO GRAB DAVE. WE RUSHED HIM AND GRABBED THE GUN, WHICH FIRED THREE SHOTS INTO THE CEILING. AFTER THE STRUGGLE WAS OVER WE TIED DAVE TO A CHAIR. WE STOOD THERE VICTORIOUS, LOOKING INTO THE CRAZED EYES OF SPACE'S EX- TORMENTOR, AS WE HEARD A TREMENDOUS EXPLOSION BEHIND US..... Subject:Hey Bud Let's Party... Number:14 From:Rip Date:06/21/85 We all looked up. Dave was unconsious from the 'talking' that we had done with him. "Phun, go take a look outside." ordered Nibble. Phun ran to the window and looked."There is a large fire up the street," he reported,"I can see some movement beyond it." "Shit," I said,"I set up a claymore with a tripwire across the road. Some musta set it off." Nibble ran over next to Phun."He's right, there is something coming down u p there." It was pretty quite in the house for a while as Nibble and Phun looked out . Dave was coming around slowy,"Put somemore nio-coefain into his system."I told Nomad,"that should keep him out until we get out of here." Suddenly there was a familiar shout from the window"COPS!" was all I heard . Space grabbed the .44 that was laying on the carpet while I ran to the windo w. Sure enough there were to interceptors coming down the street, and the fire that was burning looked as if it used to be a third. Phun and Nibble ran back to the rear of the house looking for an exit. Whi e I still was looking out the window. "Come on Rip, Let's get out of here!" yelled Space. Nomad was running down a hall in the direction of the garage. I grabbed my bag and ran with Space in back of Nomad. We opened the door a found Nibble, Phun and Nomad standing in front of us stareing. Sitting in front of them were two Ferrari GTO's. "What a rich capitalsitic asshole." was the only words spoken...... Subject:MEANWHILE BACK AT THE RANCH... Number:15 From:MIDI AMIN Date:06/21/85 OPENING THE MAGIC BAG, NOMAD AND I PLACED EXPLOSIVE CHARGES AT STRATEGIC POINTS ON THE GARAGE DOOR. AFTER REVIEWING OUR PLANS, WE SPLIT UP, RIP AND SPACE IN ONE CAR, NOMAD AND THE COUNT IN THE OTHER. NOMAD PRESSED THE BUTTON ON IS ELECTRONIC DETONATOR, BLOWING THE GARAGE DOOR INTO THE STREET. THE DOUBLE ROAR OF THE FERARIS WERE ALL THAT REMAINED OF US IN A FEW MOMENTS. AFTER DRIVING OUT OF HIS NEIGHBORHOOD, WE REALIZED THAT WE HAD LEFT DAVE AT HIS HOUSE, AND EVEN THOUGH HE WOULDN'T BE A PROBLEM FOR QUITE A WHILE, HE WOULD ALL TOO SOON BECOME A PROBLEM ONCE AGAIN. OUR MINDS WERE DEEP IN THIS THOUGHT AND BARELY NOTICED THE SIGN THAT SAID "DIP." THIS WOULDN'T BE A PROBLEM, EXCEPT FOR THE FACT THAT THE PERSON WHO PUT THIS SIGN UP HAD A MAJOR PROBLEM WITH UNDERSTATEMENTS..... Subject:Dip Number:16 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:06/22/85 . . . One thing was for sure, nobody would ever accuse the State Highway Department of being overzealous in their estimation of the danger of that particular little gully. As soon as the dust had cleared, we all realized that those beautiful cars were never breaking another speed limit again. "SHIIIIIT," screamed Rip as he crawled out of the wreckage of the demolished Ferrari, "I thought that that was the sign we had put on Dave's lawn!" "It was," I yelled, "but the sonofabitch moved it back last night! I thought I had told you!" Well, none of us were hurt, anyway. Everyone started digging around in their bags for some sort of light, but all Rip could come up with was a lighter. Nomad did even worse, all he had was a high-powered CO2 laser. Suitable for punching holes in anything from people to brick walls, but far from useful as a light source, as Nomad proved by drilling through the hood of the first Ferrari, the DIP sign, and a squirrel while looking for his wallet under the seat. "Turn that thing off before you kill someone," offered Space. "I was safer back there with Dave." He turned to Rip. "Now what? Those cops are about thirty seconds behind us." Then I remembered. "Hey, guys, remember when I was on that big kick about THE MONKEY-WRENCH GANG as few weeks ago? Well I still have that cache of equipment up in the hills, and that's only about an hour away on foot. There's food, drink, explosives, and most important, that CJ7 we stole from Key AMC/Jeep last month." "Great idea," said Prince, as the first pigmobile came over the crest of hill . . . Subject:More of the above... Number:17 From:Space, the (finally) conscious Date:06/22/85 Well, we dove for cover in the dr inage ditch; that cop hadn't paid enoug h attention to the sign, either. He to pped the rise, cleared half of the ditc h, and dropped straight onto the two fe rraris. It was a disgusting sight; two fine road machines mashed under the hee l of the police force. Rip was kinda antsy by this time; he' d been close enough to the law before. "Let's get going before that asshole wa kes up!" he whispered savagely. Count Nibble took the lead, and broug ht us up through the storm sewers to th e northeast edge of town. It was a lon g walk, and everyone was looking over t heir shoulders to keep an eye out for t he fuzz, but it was well worth the time and effort. The "stash" that he'd mentioned was m ore like a gold mine! All of the neces sities for survival in post-nuclear Ame rica, or even in 1985 Albuquerque. I d ropped off my .44 for an AK-47 and thre e bannana clips; "I'd hate to be caught short.", I said to Nomad. "You'd better load up too; it looks like we're going out loaded for bear." Prince Phun picked up a rocket launch er and said, "Now, THIS looks like fun! ", while Rip pored over the assortment of grenades, Claymores, and satchel cha rges . . . Subject:Hayduke Would be Proud... Number:18 From:Skuzzy Date:06/24/85 I sat dpwn with my pack to start work on some explosives. I first made a radiodetonater-box with 5 channels and twelve plunger type detonaters that had nine volt batteries for the charge. I raided Nomad's toy box for all the remote-controlled cars for the parts. I sent Phun down the way to a Circle-K for some hairspay, peroxide, and some Tylenol. While he was gone I put some C-4 into lead pipeing which was lying around. I had some rocket engines with me and some igniters. I put together some small rockets with medium warheads for emergancies. Nomad toke these out and mounted them on small trakes with handles. Phun got back with the stuff and I proceeded to make some nifty AP mines with the hairspray and some bits of glass and metal. The final thing I did as to make some mines. I cooked up a batch of Nito-Tri iodine from the peroxide and asperain. I put that into to aluminuim pie tins and taped them together. Space almost mistook them for frisbees 'cause they looked like it. At daybreak I had finished my projects, It was to be a long day.... Subject:Dawn and Beyond Number:19 From:The Ripper Date:06/25/85 Well everybody had gotten some rest, and we had checked over eveything prett y good. As dwan broke above the city, we were headed for Santa Fe, New Mexico. Nibble was riding shotgun, I was, of course, driving, Space, Phun and Nomad were in the back keeping an eye out for the pigs. "I have a contact at the ComputerLand in Santa Fe," explaned the Count,"he smuggles stuff into the country for me. He should have the stuff we need for the journey ahead." We drove up the main interstate until the first junction where we would then promplty take a more unobtrusive way to the capitol. We were all abit antse about being out in the open for so long. Phun and Nomad had binocs and were busily scouting around. There efforts did not go to waste. For coming up fast were a few 'visiters' from the sky.... Subject:Slavers from the Sky (oo OO oohhh....) Number:20 From:REDD SLAVER Date:06-28-85 Several tons of automatic weapons were quickly brought to bear on the approaching craft. It was definitely a flying saucer, and could possibly represent the first contact of mankind with an alien species. But our little tribe of Guildsmen were in no mood for extraterrestrials. They wanted blood. Evil black barrels pointed to the sky, waiting to unleash their supply of assorted projectiles. Count, the only one who, for some reason, did not have a weapon capable of reaching that far, kept the binoculars focused on it instead. He saw writing on the side of the saucer. English writing. In a quavering voice he read "S....W....P....G! Don't shoot, guys!!" The motley little band of would-be assassins lowered their weapons and looked at him strangely. Count continued, "That's the official SWPG saucer, the property of the Guild. I loaned it to Redd a long time ago, and I had forgotten completely about it! He's coming to return it now, eight weeks overdue! Hey, at a buck a day, that means the Guild will have a balanced budget this year after all!" Triumphant cheering was heard as the saucer touched down gently alongside the freeway and Redd Slaver (yep, me) stepped out. He walked over to the stopped car and handed the keys to the saucer to Count. He grinned sheepishly, mumbling, "Sorry I'm late, Count. Do you know how easy it is to get laid in a flying saucer?" Count accepted the keys gracelessly. "I certainly do. I own the damned thing, remember?" "It must have slipped my mind. Where are we going?" Redd asked as he piled into the car and helped himself to some of the assorted weapons lying around on the floorboards . . . Subject:Onward to the City Different Number:21 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:06-28-85 "You could at least HELP with this damned thing," I shouted to Redd as he picked through the weaponry. I reached underneath the saucer's disk, pulled a plug, and it slowly deflated. Nomad crawled around inside and disassembled the framework as I folded the nylon envelope of the vehicle. We soon completed the task, and hefted the now-compacted saucer into the back of the heavily overloaded CJ7. We were extremely lucky to make it into Santa Fe without the stupid thing tipping over, and Rip had to be reminded several times to " . . . STOP WEAVING ALL OVER THE FUCKING ROAD!!!" screamed Space, hanging on for dear life as the Jeep's center of gravity meandered dangerously close to the right-hand wheels. "Well, excuuuuuse me, Space, I'm used to vehicles with a little more STABILITY. Not stupid Jeeps, and especially not stupid Jeeps with six people and 300 pounds of cargo in them. It's a miracle this damn thing can MOVE, alone do 75 up La Bajada. Good job, Nomad." "Don't worry, Rip," I said, "You'll have plenty of stability when we get to the warehouse, in fact, there's gonna be enough stability for everyone, even this unstable lot." Prince Phun stopped looking though his dirty magazine, as the wind had blown the centerfold out of the center and into Redd's face. "What exactly do you have for us up there, Count?" "Wait and see, guys," I grinned. "Wait and see." Subject:All For US???? Number:22 From The Ripper Date:06-28-85 It was about 2300 when we rolled us to the side of a small ware house on the southest side of Sante Fe. We had the extreme luck of getting through the state's capitol without getting spotted. "Good," commented Nibble as I pulled the jeep to a stop," there is a pay phone here." Nomad handed him our IIc as hey picked up the reciever."Anybody got a quater?" Nomad then smiled and came up with a small blue box, he pressed a button on the top and a series of beeps came out and the reciever clicked and gave us a tone."Nifty" was all I could muster. Nibble logged onto the local board and talked to our contact who was the syso p. He jotted down some numbers and then logged off. "The lock is programed for a certain combo," he stated as we followed him over to the door,"which I just recieved and it should open" he started pressing buttens on a small keypad on the side of the entry," right now." The small door swung open and we all peered in. It was very dark in there. Nomad came out with a large light and we started in. "Glad you could finally joined us Redd." I shook his hand for the first time, for we had never met."This should be alot of fun." Subject:Wow Number:23 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:06-28-85 After some fumbling, Prince Phun finally found the light switches. Sitting in the center of the warehouse were three large crates. "Okay people, let's get these things open," I shouted. "RIP! PUT DOWN THAT CROWBAR! This is sensitive cargo, and if you damage it I'll cut your balls off." Rip reached into his sack and pulled out some wooden wedges, which he passed around. "Use these. I carry 'em around to open crates of explosives, usually. This shit isn't going to explode in our faces, is it, Count?" "No, not in OUR faces, but in the faces of a few cops, perhaps . . . " "BITCHEN!" shouted Nomad as he and Prince Phun lifted the top off of one of the crates. "A COUNTACH!!!" "This one's even better," grinned Rip, "I got a Testarossa." Space was a bit less enthusiastic. "I got a Pinto Wagon. What's the deal?" I launched into my explanation. "Siege wangled them for me. That's where the petty cash went. I had him smuggle them in for us after I saw them in Road & Track a while back. I've known the guy since High School, and he was always willing to 'appropriate' a few things for me, for a price." "Speaking of PRICE," said Space, "just how much did these set us back?" "Two-hundred and fifty-one thousand, two-hundred fifteen dollars. Usually the Countach runs about $100,000, and the Ferrari about $90,000, but I had to pay Siege 125 each. He brought them in without taking them through customs, so they're not retrofitted. The extra $1215 is for yours, Space, I picked it up at Frontier Ford last week." "I don't know if I should be mad or grateful," mused Space, "at least I won't have to worry about denting mine." "You'll find it's far from stock," I said, "I had Siege do some work on it, and once Rip gets through, it'll be the most dangerous machine in the bunch. Now, I suggest we all catch a little sleep. We have some work to do on these, and then we've got to decide what we do next . . ." Subject:Well shiitttt... Number:24 From:The (very happy) Ripper Date:06-28-85 "Killer dudes, this is going to be AWESOME!" I said. I told Phun to look around for the rest of the stuff that we would need. Arn't you going to what 'till morning?" asked Space "FUCK THAT!, I start on these babies NOW" Phun returned and said that there were ten more smaller crates 'round back. I told him to get them, and We started our work. I won't go into the fine details of the next 45 hours, I will just explain the results. Th e Pinto was the finest of all three. We sliced of the rear seats and al l, I placed a small turret on the rear, it was about four inches off the roof of the cab, and it looked like the vehicle was pregnant. In the turret was a 7.62 caliber mini-gun with a holographic laser intensifier. It looked like ther were just to little holes in the very front,one for the barrel of the gun and one for the camera. If you know your weopons you will find that that this gun with teflon bullets is pretty damn powerful. It looked pretty damn nice too. Space worked on the engine and jacked up the rear and he was set. After a few more adjustments it would be finished. Subject:But will it bake a cherry pie? Number:25 From:Space, Pilot. Date:06-28-85 Whelp, that damn machine looked okay, i f you like rust and bent panels. "I'll feel right at home in this thing", I to ld Redd. "Reminds me of the car I had in Boston. I called that the Enterpris e..." "Why the Enterprise?" asked Redd, fal ling for it... "Well, after all, it WAS a Space Shut tle." Having gotten that out of my system, Redd and I sat down and started to do s ome electronics work for the gun. We r an the cables into the //c, and set up a small modem hookup in the glove compa rtment. "This looks good, but how will we be able to use it without getting ca ught?" asked Prince Phun. Count Nibble broke in, holding up a c hip and saying "We'll just open her up and drop this in place." "What good'll that do us?" asked PP, not QUITE catching on... "Well," said CN, "it's an eprom that I burned for us... It's set up so's al l of the calls are charged to Dave Stae hlin!" "All-fucking-right!!!" yelled PP "So what're we gonna do for gas? You guys can't fill THOSE things up without being spotted..." I said. "Look around where the back seat of t he wagon used to be" Rip said, and when I did, I found two 20 gallon tanks. "G et those filled for me when you can, wi ll you?" "This car isn't a wagon, it's a TANK! Enough gas to go to Nova Scotia, and e nough firepower to sweep the roads on t he way!" "Well, we'll be needing it, and every thing ELSE we've got here, if we're goi ng to make it...." added Nomad, finally looking up from the maps we'd found. Subject:Destination Unknown Number:26 From The Ripper Date:06/29/85 Well, things where looking darn good from where I stood. I worked a little on my Lanborgini, Installing the IIc and the cellular phone. I then got Phun, who was gonna ride shotgun with me, wto help me do a bit of body work on our new toy. The claymores and mines would come into handy on the trip. "Just where are we going anyway?" asked Nomad. "How about Canada or Mexico?" Said Space. "NOT Mexico!" demeanded Redd. "Alright then it's Canada, right?" Said Phun. "How about Florida." I put in. "WHAT?!" they all said. "Yah, right, what's in Florida?" Said Nomad. "I was thinken we could Hijack a Shuttle....." Subject:the shuttle?!?!? Number:27 From:MIDI AMIN Date:07/02/85 "The shuttle?!?!?!?!? You must be crazy!" was the general attitude of the gr oup. "There's no way in the real world you'd even get through the gate with that idea." Nevertheless, and mostly for laughs, the Count called around and called up the CAPCOM computer to check the next departure..... Subject:Elsewhere... Number:28 From:SYNTH Date:07/02/85 The early morning sun had just begun to make its presence known as it peeked over the Texas plain, and the two hitchhikers had already resumed their trek eastward as they walked along I-40 out of Amarillo. As the fresh sunlight hit upon their faces, the pair looked at each other briefly, then promptly donned their shades. "Shit," muttered one of the pair. "Why the hell did we have to get going so early from the motel? Did you notice those two girls checking in as we were leaving?" "Yeah, well it's too late now, isn't it?" said the other. "Look, we have to keep some kind of a schedule if we want to make it to Oklahoma City bysundown." "I wouldn't call hitchhiking your om Albuquerque to Memphis a method that exactly adheres to a goddamn schedule." "Fuck you." The blond one of the pair glanced back over his shoulder for any prospective transportation. "Be- sides, you never know what might happen on the road. Things could get exciting....." His words trailed off. "What's the matter?" inquired the other. A puzzled stare off into the distance by his companion was the only answer he got. He tried again. "What is it? Have you finally come to the realization that those two chicks back at Amarillo were too good to pass up?" "You dumbass, will you shut up for a sec?" The blond's attention seemed to focus over and past the hill they were approaching. "Do you hear that?" "Hear what? I can't hear anything." "Tell me about it. It's no wonder you're not deaf from the volume you play your Walkman at." His counterpart drew back for a good Subject:Maybe we should use our Babel Fish.... Number:29 From:SYNTH Date:07/02/85 head-slap when he too had his attention diverted. His arm froze in the pulled back position. "Hey, what's that sound?" "Sounds like a car engine, doesn't it?" The would-be head-slapper dropped his arm and stared toward the crest of the hill as they continued walking. "No, not quite. Doesn't sound right... it can't be a car engine." "Wait, listen," The blond paused as they both heard a distant revving sound. "It's an engine revving." "No it's not. Sounds different, almost....musical. Sounds like a chord of notes." "Say what? Notes don't 'rev', asshole." "You just said it sounded like a car engine. But it sounds sorta strange.... electronic, maybe." The blond's eyes widened. "Yeah, electronic! Like one of those synthesizer dealies. Jeez, it sounds weird." "It's getting louder too. Must be coming this way. Gotta be a car of some sort." "No car I ever heard of sounds like that." The blond gave his co-traveler a worried eye. "What the hell is it?" "Sounds like it's the sound of a car engine..." he fought for the right words, "...channeled...through a synthe sizer! Listen...yeah, it's an engine, but it sounds totally bizarre---" A sudden surge of sound drowned out the rest of his words. The two hikers Subject:This means something... Number:30 From:SYNTH Date:07/02/85 suddenly realize they'd been walking the entire time, and both stop in their tracks. "It's scarin' the shit out of me, whatever it is! Maybe we better turn around, man." "Where're we gonna go? Right, like we can OUTRUN it or something." "Look, it can't be a car! It don't sound like any fuckin' car!!" "Well what is it?!" "It's coming over the goddamn hill, man! Let's at least get off the r---" Suddenly, a black form burst out over the hill, bringing with it an ear- splitting electronic ROAR of its engine. The Pantera briefly became airborne as it cleared the hill's crest, then, landing firmly on the pavement, pounced down on the two lone figures at top speed. "OH, SHIT!!" The two hitchhikers dove for cover--hard to do on an open road--as the early morning nightmare shot past. One hiker nicked his shoe against the side of the Pantera at a hundred twenty-five miles per hour, and screamed for the life of his foot. The two landed hard on the dirt and rolled twice before stopping. Im- mediately they got up as they were forced to hear the eerie electronic wailing of the car, already receeding in the distance. The small black out- line of the Pantera, already becoming a speck, was hard to miss against the desert backdrop. Two brightly lit taillights confirmed its departure, to the silent relief of the two hitch- hikers. Stunned, they simply stood at the side of the road, staring back down I-40 and the Pantera... Subject:Hot foot Number:31 From:SYNTH Date:07/02/85 The non-blond hiker looked down at his foot, relieved to see it was still there. He turned up his leg to look at his shoe and saw that hi heel was smoking. "Jesus Christ," he muttered. "Totally awesome," breathed the other, still staring at the black speck. "What?! That bastard coulda killed me!!" "Well, I got his license number in case he decided to. Only it wasn't a number, it was a--" His companion cut him off. "How were you able to do that?! I barely had time to get my ass off the fuckin' road, let alone see who was driving the goddamn thing. Did you see him?" "No, windows were totally blacked out." "Shit." The casualty detected a warmth around his heel, and looked down again, remembering his near-miss. He quickly rubbed out his heel in the dirt. "Whoever he is, he's headed toward Albuquerque." "Yeah." The blond took a deep breath and exhaled quickly. "Well, nothing like a nice perker-upper to get the day started." "Fuck you." The blond grinned at his counterpart , then indicated the hill once again. "Well, we better get going. We can report him to the cops in Oklahoma City if you want." The other hiker shook his head. "Nah, for what? Speeding? I don't think Subject:. Number:32 From:SYNTH Date:07/02/85 he meant to hit us. I mean, how could he have seen us, standing in the middle of the road like jackasses. Well, what's his license anyway?" The blond smiled again. "Jeez, you won't believe it. Totally proves my theory about the--" "What the hell IS it?!" The hitchhiker turned to his friend with a sudden gleam in his eye. Briefly he remembered the strange car thoughtfully before saying, "SYNTH." Subject:meanwhile back at the ranch... Number:33 From:SYNTH Date:07/02/85 Space turned to Rip as the Count went to worrk. "I don't think Florida' is such a good idea either. We could get SO busted it wouldn't even be funny." Rip indicated their new high-perfor- mance toys. "Look, with machinery like these, it should be a breeze." His eyes rested on the Ferrari. "DAMN this is awesome!" He turned back to address everyone. "Guys, we should go for it. It'll be excellet. Just imagine out- running those cops like they were sitting on their asses!" Smiles rose from everyone in the group. "Besides, what could POSSIBLY happen to us on the way????" Subject:"What" indeed! Number:34 From:MIDI AMIN Date:07/02/85 Finally, the persons for the idea convinced the persons against the idea tha t it would be an interesting experience, and the group decided to prepare as so on as they arrived back at the stash cave. "What the hell, if we get in trouble we can always outrun them!" Arriving back at the cave, the whole group proceeded to stock up on ammo. When they finished, they took off. Then Rip thought of something that hadn't occured to anyone before: "What the hell are we supposed to eat?" Prince responded, "Oh, I KNEW we were forgetting something!" "No prob!" said the Count. "Do you know how many Circle-K's there are bet ween here and Florida? Just stop off there." Having settled the crisis of the day, the mighty warriors continued their trek toward the most awesome hijack of all. Meanwhile, back in Albuquerque, Dave Staehlin was typing madly on his IBM. Having made friends with the substitute sysop (the sysop was in Florida waiting for the next shuttle launch and being very excited that he was actually going to see the thing lift off) of the GASNET (NASA info board, and actually the computer the Count called earlier) long before this date, he found out that the Count had logged on, and was now watching the records of his trans- actions. After a while of thought, he realized that the shuttle was what they were after. (This is not as incredible as it sounds. The whole idea was crazy, and seeing as how Dave was as looney tunes as Daffy himself, the idea occured to him quite naturally. No big deal.) Now being totall outraged, he was trying to figure some way to cut them off, but how?....... Subject:Cameo -- George Washington Hayduke Number:35 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:07/03/85 When George Hayduke nearly bit the dust he was about to bring down an offending billboard along I-40, about 35 miles west of Tucumcari, New Mexico. He had been hiking for well over four hours from Conchas Dam (where he and his compatriots, Dr. A.K. Sarvis, Bonnie Abbzug, and Seldom Seen Smith, had painted "The Army Corps of Engineers Sucks Donkey Dicks" in thirty-foot-high letters on the side of the dam) when he had encountered the sign, which on one side read: Visit Beautiful Tucumcari, NM Curios -- Indian Dances -- Food Only 35 miles to go! and on the other stated with great confidence: Only YOU can prevent forest fires! "Bullshit", thought Hayduke, "most forest fires are started by lightning, and as Seldom would say, 'that there's an act of God.' Blasphemy!" So he went into his pack, pulled out a small handsaw, and started to work. He had the billboard teetering on what was left of its two outer supports when he began to hear a strange sound out of the east. And bursting over the crest of the hill was the fastest, blackest car that George Washington Hayduke had ever seen. As it passed the billboard, the wake of the car finally threw the sign off balance and it started to fall -- on Hayduke. He jumped out of the way just in time, and the car disappeared in the distance, heading towards Albuquerque. "Shit, buddy," muttered Hayduke, "I'd hate to be the guy you're running from, or chasing . . . " And Hayduke picked up his pack, crossed the Interstate, and made for Saddleback Mesa where he and his co-conspirators would meet, make camp, drink beer, and plot the monkeywrenching of whatever bureaucratic monument struck their fancy next. [Many thanks to E.Abbey for fun and inspiration -/\/oo\/\] Subject:Enter stage left Number:36 From:The Ripper Date:07/08/85 "I just got off the board with Midi in Albuquerque, he says that the Black Pant ara just left town headed north." "Who is he?" "An old friend who was lead away by the power of money." "whata we do?" "Well we can run or wait." "waiting is for shit, we head for Santa Rosa and the Gaurd Armory there...." Subject:A little background information Number:37 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:07/11/85 Dice were rolling. Dave Staehlin had finally remobilized himself, this time with a totally new kind of vehicle for him, one of the two-wheeled variety. As he opened his garage door, his eyes caressed his shimmering new BMW R65LS. More a cruising bike than one built for speed, but certainly up to the task at hand -- making life tough for the motley crew of Guildsmen on their way to Florida. As he pulled on his leathers, he made a final inspection of the bike. The saddlebags were full of printouts he had taken off the Fourth Reich, to be used as "evidence" once the band had been placed behind bars. The bike was loaded with accessories, even including a CB radio and a stereo tape deck, and he grinned as he straddled the machine, tightened his helmet, and pulled out of the garage. Destination: unknown. He would contact his operatives once out on the road, and make his decisions from there. Meanwhile, on State Highway 84 between Las Vegas and Santa Rosa, the conver- sation had turned to Synth. Before their exit from the warehouse in Santa Fe, a frantic phone call from Midi Amin had described the mayhem resulting from the Pantera's arrival. It had roared out of the pass at rush hour, followed by policeman from every New Mexico county along I-40, and state, county, and city cops from as far east as Illinois. Noone could agree on what might have brought him to Albuquerque, but whatever it was, it was big. Really big. Dice were rolling. Subject:In The Dead Of Night... Number:38 From:The Ripper Date:07/13/85 It was calm, to calm it seemed for Space, he was breathing real hard, or was it that he was laying prone next to me? "See anything?" "Naw, no cars no nothing" "The junctions' clean then?" "Well, not really, there is a hitchhiker camped out under the overpass." "Lemme see." "Well?" "don't see anything." "look under the centrail support, see it, smoke, probably from a cigarette or small fire." I pointed as I talked, Space's vision must be impaired from all the driving. "Yah I see him now, what a minute, he's standing up, no it isn't a he. it's a s he..." "what, tha hell you say-" I was interupted by the sound of my AN/PRC radio buzzing in my ear."Rip, this is Redd, there is a chopper coming in over the nor th mesa, I just picked it up on the RA/TRV, Nibble think we should head for cover, Nomad thinks we should blast um'," "Keep Nomad on his leash, I guess we should hide , maybe we will loose them tha t way." "She isn't half bad either, I amgoing for a closer look." Space got up and star ted down the side of the small ridge. In the my mind I could Rob Halford's voi ce singing "In the dead of night, love bites, love bites......" Subject:A Chopper. Great. Number:39 From:Redd, back from the Austin wilderness Date:07/13/85 Up near the mesa, Redd, Count, and Nomad hid among the loose rocks as the sound of the approaching chopper grew ever louder in their ears. "Redd," hissed Count through clenched teeth, "what are we going to DO?" "You're the president," retorted Redd, "you tell me." "Will you two please keep it down?" asked Nomad. "I'm trying to get a fix on his radio frequency so we can jam any messages he sends out." Redd frowned. "Won't that be a little suspicious?" But Count was already prepared. "Nope," he grinned, "I've got just what we need." He produced a microcassette recorder and a small box of tapes. He selected a tape labeled, "Helicopter Sounds and Routine Messages", and popped it into the player. Nomad, who had finished setting up the ECM by this time, wired the tape player into the circuit and stepped back. "There. It's done. Beautiful." We all agreed that it was beautiful. Now the chopper's own radio output was being jammed and replaced by our own cassette recorded sounds. "That's great, Nomad," said Count, "but won't people get a littls suspicious sooner or later?" "By the time they do, we'll be miles away, and we'll have taken care of that chopper," said Nomad. "How?" replied Count. Then, "Redd, where are you going?" Redd, who was creeping off towards the parked cars, couldn't hear and didn't answer. Nomad grinned. "He's going to take care of the chopper." Before Count could be much relieved, his radio crackled back to life. Sounds of explosions and screams sounded in the background, and in the foreground was Rip's voice, screaming, "COUNT! NOMAD! REDD! GET DOWN HERE NOW!! HURRY!" Subject:Some Heavy shit is going down.... Number:40 From:The Ripper Date:07/16/85 Space felt the punch hit home. He dropped to his knees and fell back. Looming over him the biker's face grinned, and spoke"Bye Bye Candy-ass, Nobody Touches my woman." "excuss me," the biker turned around and a small figure stood in back him, the errie light made it impossible to see his face," Can you point out the way to Hell?" "what did you say boy?" "You know, Hell, the place your gonna be.....gonna be real soon." There was a flash in the light and the Cut-throat Britva sliced through the heavy biker jacket and bite the flesh of the arm underneath. The man lefted his head and gave a short yell as the blood squirted out from the artery that was cut. The return stroke coaght him just under the chin. he fell back anto his would-be victom, the blood pumping now, and slowly died...... Subject:Short but sweet... Number:41 From:Space, the excessively beaten. Date:07/16/85 The gal looked down at her ex-boyfrie nd, and started to gag at the sight of his life's blood oozing out from the se cond smile he'd developed in his throat . I stood up, a bit woozy, and said, " Fer chrissakes, you dumbass, did you ha ve to KILL him??" "Well, it seemed like a good idea..." offered Rip. "Couldn't you just MAIM him or someth ing? I mean, it's AWFULLY hard to stop that bleeding, without putting a tourni quet on his NECK! Next time, just cut his hamstring, or break his kneecap! H e may not be able to RIDE that way, but at least he'll BREATHE!" "Jeez, Space, don't get so hyper. It 's only one dumbass biker." "Yeah? Well, did YOU ever try making out with a girl who's busy losing her l unch in the gutter?" I pointed to where the gal was lurching back and forth, sp illing her guts on the concrete pilings . "Great, Space; I save your ass, and Y OU'RE still worried about getting laid! " Subject:Bye Bye Chopper Number:42 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:07/16/85 . . . "Where in the HELL are you going?" I yelled down to Redd as I crawled after him, down towards the parked vehicles. "Never mind, just play along!" he shouted. "Here, catch!" I flinched as a flare pistol landed right in front of me. "Now," he shouted over the rising clatter of the chopper blades, "I'm gonna draw him over to ME with the flash- light! As soon as I switch it off, you fire that pistol at the chopper wind- shield. AND DON'T MISS!" I leaned back into the shadows, watching. Sure enough, as soon as Redd started waving his flashlight around the Pinto, the chopper headed towards him. Soon it was hovering about 15 feet off the ground, with Redd in the spotlight below. And just then, he switched off the flashlight. I took aim on the chopper, and fired the flare gun. The flare shot towards the the windshield -- and I was blinded. It was like looking into a gigantic flashbulb, and I rolled around on the ground waiting for my vision to return. It soon did, and I was greeted with a beautiful sight. During my fight with blindness, Redd had attatched a grappling hook to the winch at the front end of the Pinto, thrown it up and hooked it to the chopper's landing skids, and was currently tearing down the highway, flying the chopper like a kite. With all that armour on the Pinto, it was as heavy as a tank, and there wasn't a damned thing the chopper pilot could do about it . . . Subject:Back Under the Overpass Number:43 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:07/16/85 "What the FUCK was THAT?" screamed Space as the night turned into day for a fraction of a second. "Don't worry about it," said Rip, "it's too small for a nuke, and besides, I have all the detonators here with me." Space watched as Rip carefully turned over the body of the biker. Stitched on the back of the biker's jacket was the word LONER, in elaborate gothic lettering. "We got lucky. If this guy were an Angel, we'd've been better off letting me take what he was dishing out", said Space. "Which is not to say that I'd have enjoyed it, but I'd rather be worked over by one biker than have every Hell's Angel in the country after my ass." "Well," muttered Rip, "law of the road says we get anything this bastard left behind. Which would include his woman and his bike . . . " He rooted through the tumbleweeds. "No sign of the bike. How's the woman doing?" "Better." "Good. We'll have to get her out of here somehow, if we leave her the cops will probably kill her." "I think she'd probably prefer it to what this bastard was doing to her." Just then, seemingly out of nowhere, Prince Phun pulled up on a chopped Harley-Davidson 74. "Look what I found, guys!", he grinned . . . Subject:So...... Number:44 From:MIDI AMIN Date:07/17/85 So Prince Phun, Rip, Space took the girl and the bike over to where Count and Nomad were watching Redd play Fly-'Em-Cowboy with the copter. To finish off the bird, Redd drove the car around in a wide circle, then quickly cut through the center of the circle and slammed on the brakes. All according to plan, the bird swung around and found the end of its circle, ripping off the landing struts and flipping the thing a quarter-turn forward, and it slammed into the ground. "Not bad, eh?" said Redd. "Not bad at all." responded Count. "Well, let's get going before more get here, or we'll be thrashing helicopters all night!" Subject:Merrily we roll along . . . Number:45 From:Redd, helicopter assassin. Date:07/17/85 They all piled back into the assorted vehicles, with Prince Phun keeping the motorcycle as his own. A sort of convoy formed and headed off down the road, leaving the burning chopper wreckage and a dead biker behind. "We gotta get moving," said Rip. "Shuttle launch is in just a few days, and we're not even out of New Mexico yet!" "Yah," agreed the rest of the Guild wearily, from their different vehicles. They sped off down the highway. * * * Dave Staehlin was furious. "THOSE DAMNED APPLE USERS!!" he thought. "LEAVE IT TO A PINKO CALIFORNIA COMPANY TO INSPIRE ANARCHY!!" Angrily he paced back and forth, wondering what he could do to stop them. He knew they were after the shuttle. But how could he stop them? If he called the police, they'd want names and more info than he had. He couldn't just act on a hunch. So this would have to be an independent action, a Dave Staehlin masterpiece. He had it. Racing against time, he grabbed his Pentax 35-mm camera, hopped on his bicycle and pedaled madly out of the city. * * * The black Pantera burned up the road out of Albuquerque. After the two hitchhikers, it had been an uneventful trip, save for some crazy bicyclist with a shirt that read "Dave." The humming car pulled to a stop in the freeway. The driver looked appreciatively at the wreckage of a helicopter. He smiled and sped off in a cloud of rubber. Subject:Night of a Hundred Stars Number:46 From:SYNTH Date:7TH DAY The Circle K attendant was just begin- ning to fall asleep behind the counter when a bright pair of headlights swung across his face through the window. "Great, customers at this hour," he said to himself. "Well, that's Amarillo for you...Center of the Universe." He propped himself up and rubbed his eyes. Looking out the window, his eyes widened and his mind underwent a complete reversal. What was that he was saying about Center of the Universe? He sat, dumbfounded, as he watched the Guild convoy roll in, in all its splendor and Italian engineering. Rip emerged from his Countach first. The rest of the group followed, surveying the night and the food palace in front of them. For a moment they all looked at each other. Then Prince Phun issued a hearty "Let's go," and with that they raced for the entrance... Subject:Onlookers Number:47 From:SYNTH Date:7TH DAY Having filled up their respective gas tanks, and their stomachs as well, our heroes leaned against their parked cars, basically hanging out and chatting amongst themselves, with an occasional BURP voicing itself from the group. Although it was late, there was a good amount of activity on the street in front of them. Cars would pass back and forth, playing car stereos or pulling little road stunts, producing tire screeches here and there. Then a car pulled into the Circle K, packed with guys, obviously having a good time ripping up the city or whatever. Suddenly the car slowed as all activity in it stoppped. The red Toyota station wagon cruised by the group, and finally the car stopped across from the Testarossa. All heads poked out through the windows and simultaneously every member breathed an awe-struck "Wowwwwwww....." "What can we say," said the Count, looking very proud indeed. Subject:hey guys look Number:48 From:prince phun Date:7TH DAY Well the toyota took off down theroad leaving the crew behind. "well folks time to find a place to stay for the night" count remarked. "hey phun where are you going??" Ripasked "Never mind just come here Rip. and bring your tool kit." We walked down the street a block and turned intoa local safeway. "so what" Ripsaid casually. "well fucking open your eyes. Look at that." I was pointing at a new 1985 Porsche carrera. "Wow...", rip said. "lets get started eh?" ---------------------------------------- The rest of the group was getting very restless "Dammit Hurry up" someone exclaimed. "hey guys look!" nomad said. "Nice car huh?" Red said. "yeeeeahhhh" "wait its stopping here. "The windows are blackedout" The doors open slowly and out pop me and RIP All fucking right nomad said "lets get the fuck out of here" count nibble remarked. the crew took off down the road. Subject:RAID????? Number:49 From:The Ripper Date:07/18/85 Well, the boy's were all laying about the convenience restaruant, filling themselves up with Classiv Coke, Burgers and Doritoes. Finally, it a long deep voice, somebody spoke... "Wasn't that a Pig that just drove past?" There was sudden movement as people dove for vehicles. There was the scream of ingitions and the screach of tires as the wreaking team moved out. Nibble was in the lead, while Phun was closing quickly upon him. Next was Redd and Space in the Pinto trying desperatly to keep up with the pace that was being set. Finally Rip was playing possum in the back making sure nobody was tailing. There was alot of General chatter on the CB, Phun wondering why he got stuck with Nomad, Space wondering where they were going and Redd Trying desperatly to hold on as Space weaved in and out of traffic. Finally there was some order restored as Nibble Spoke. "Everybody Pipe down, we gotta find the way out of this damn city." "...This is the Sar-effs' de-part-ment in Amerilloo Tex-as, we have a gen-real ann-ounc-ment for All Ve-hicles. four cars have been report-ed in this area by the national Pol-ice force. They are to by ap-re-headed at all costs. descriptions as follows..." Subject:Meanwhile . . . Number:50 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:07/21/85 Ariel Jenniver Broxson was pissed. It was bad enough to have been hauled off into the Rocky Mountains and used as a sex slave by an overgrown greasemonkey biker who called himself "Big Phil", but to watch his throat sliced and then be left alone in the desert was just too damned much. There had been a very loud argument among her rescuers as to just what to do with her. The ones called Count and Redd had insisted that she be left behind, and the one called Space (who had come pretty close to raping her himself) had demanded that she come along with him, and furthermore, that the one called Redd should ride the Harley since there wouldn't be room in the Pinto if she and Space were going to be together. It was a huge mess, and was only resolved when the one who had sliced Big Phil's throat had stepped in, suggesting that they leave her, and the bike, behind, with enough gasoline to get her to Santa Rosa. Space was disappointed, but it was three against one after all, with Prince Phun and Nomad busy abstaining. So, after the convoy of machinery had rolled off to the East, A.J. decided to follow them. After all, a group of six guys like that could probably use a woman, it couldn't possibly be any worse than anything she had already gone through, and besides, the blond one with the knife was kinda cute . . . Subject:'You spin me right round...' Number:51 From:The Ripper Date:07/21/85 "I liked her, she was cute." "fuck you, we gotta stay low, not pick up every damn muff between here and the fucking moon." "He's right Space, we gotta keep going" "all right, I still think she was cute." "O.k. that's fourteen Big Macs, 6 Classic Cokes, ten Large fries, 4 Apple pies, two hot fudge sundias and one happy meal?" "yah that's it." "That will be 55.63 at the window" "Listen , I don't care if the mayor doesn't like it, this is a national emergancy. I know that food roits are important put this is,.... yes I know that he is a busy man....yes, ... yes,...." "Well O'conner, can we get their help?" "No, dammit, He thinks that people killing people over dead cats is more important then communist spies taking over the world!" Subject:The Plot Thickens So Much As To Be Almost Ridiculous. Number:52 From:Redd Slaver, twisted. Date:07/22/85 Waldo Staehlin was ecstatic. As a new employee of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, assigned to the Departhment of Computer and Communications Crimes, his lot in life was a dull one. Ever since his older brother David had bought his first PET way back when, Waldo had been fascinated by computers, and he inherited the Staehlin family's genetic traits for purity and law-abidingness. So, naturally he had joined the FBI after dropping out of his sophomore year at UNM. He was still pretty low on the totem pole at the FBI. He still had to wait in line at the coffee machine, was still payed next to nothing, and had to wait another 10 years before he could get a government car to use on cases. He still had to collect information from his '79 Volvo, a somewhat ludicrous vehicle from which to conduct investigations into matters of National Security. But all that was going to change now. He had just gotten the most promising phone call of his life, and sure enough it was from his brother Dave. Dave had some great information on a bunch of Radical Left-Wing Lousy Commie Computer Anarchist Hackers, as he had so eloquently put it. Evidently some small group of these people were heading towards Florida, to wreck the Space Shuttle! Or something like that. Waldo had gotten so excited during the call that he had forgotten some of the details, but he did remember that this was frightfully important. Having nothing else to do on an otherwise slow day, he got on the phone. Let's see, New Mexico representatives...no, that wouldn't do any good, it had to be a senator. And both of them were back in their home state campaigning! This was a predicament! But wait! Wasn't one of them from Texas? [CONT'D] Subject:Phone Call ... Clone Fall ... Lone Mall ... Bone Awl ... etc. Number:53 From:Redd Slaver Date:07/22/85 Yes! The one that Dave had referred to only as "Redd" -- what a funny name!, thought Waldo -- was always saying how great things were at the University of Texas. Texas senators ... let's see. Waldo thought. These people were radical anarchists, and were endangering the country ... best to let a good Republican take care of things . Hmm, Texas' senators were Bentsen and ... BINGO!! Waldo's eyes fell on the name of Sen. Phil Gramm, who was said to be, politically, just tothe right of Atilla the Hun. He dialed the phone with shaking fingers. After revealing his idntity and mission to the secretary, he was connected to a man who spoke in a deep, functional-illiterate's Southern accent. "Senator Gramm? This is Waldo Staehlin with the Federal Bureau of Investigation . . ." Waldo told his story. * * * The Secretaries were pacing about. This meeting was big, and te President was late! But finally Ronald Reagan was helped into the room by he burly Secret Serviceman, and sat slowly down. Reagan acknowledged the presence of his good friend the attorneygeneral first. "Hi, Ed." "Hello, Mr. President. How's your ass?" "Better, thanks. Surgery like that takes a lot out of you!" Caspar Weinberger exhaled violently. "Well, it's good to see you looking better, Mr. President, but can we get to the matter at hand?" "Certainly, Cap. Shall we, gentlemen?" [CONT'D] Subject:Cabinet Meeting ... Corvette Beating ... and that's about it. Number:54 From:Redd, one more time. Date:07/22/85 National Security Advisor Robert McFarlane strode to the head of the room. "The problem is serious, gentlemen. What we're dealing with is a bunch of young subversives. It seems that their goal is not so much to destroy the shuttle as to undermine the United States, which we can obviously not allow to happen." Reagan looked gravely at McFarlane. "So what do you suggest we do?" "Stop at nothing, Mr. President. These computer abusers must be stopped, no matter what the costs." "I agree," interjected Weinberger. "Me too," added Schultz. "Nuke 'em 'till they glow, then shoot 'em in the dark, that's what I always say." Reagan smiled thinly, remembering that that was what Haig always said too. "Very well, gentlemen. Stop these juveniles at all costs." He stood and strode out of the room. Unfortunately, the Cabinet had no idea what those costs would be! Subject:the redd fone (sic I know) Number:55 From:J-EDGAR HOOVER Date:07/22/85 The Red phone buzzed and a sudden hush fell over the cavernous Crystal Palace. The SAC commander jumped to his feet and caught the phone in mid buzz. He held it to his ear and listened for several seconds... "Yes mister president, Right away SIR!" "HOT DAMN !!! This Is better than WARGAMES!!!", announced the commander, "I'm finaly gonna get ta' NUKE me some Ruskies!" "What do you mean sir, These arn't Russian commies? What are they? Nicaraguan ? Cubans? I want Castro's as as a reading lamp.... AMERICANS?!?!?!? What the HELL are you talkin about Ron?" "Yes SIR, computer pirates!!!" "I'll Launch immediatly Mr President" He hung up gently and anounced to the eager crew in the room, "Set 5 MX missles for Texas, This spot right here," he said, pointing to a map "But sir, Won't the fallout kill half of west Texas?" "Yes it will but this is more important than all those people" "Commencing Firing sequence." "Sequence initiated." "Firing code ?" "X-RAYNOMADPHUNRIPNIBBLESPACE" "Check. Failsafe code?" "Global Thermonuclear War" "What The Fuck?" "You heard me! Global Thermonuclear War" "Warhead arm code?" "JOSHUA" "Bullshit! What's the code?" "I said, JOSHUA" [cont.] Subject:The plot sickens and turns REAL bad for the SWPG Number:56 From:J-EDGAR HOOVER Date:07/22/85 "Allright then JOSHUA" "insert keys." "Ready." "Turn left, Turn right" The ground shuddered as the five missiles streaked skyward. Each carrying 10 seperate warheads targated for a strip of I-40 100 miles long. "Birds away!!!" The missles streaked through the stratosfere at mach 8 headed for our heros as they suspect nothing. Waldo had called his big brother Dave and sure enoug h Dave had taken the Tram up to the crest so that he could watch half of texas turned to wasteland and millions of people fried in their sleep all in the name of Truth, Justice, and the American way... Meanwhile, back on the road to the cape, Nomad was stargazing as he is apt to when hard up for muff. Suddenly he sees five satellites. Tiny dots of light in the sky. Nomad suggests Why don't we pull off and see what the fuck those t ings are. They look like UFOs" "Alright if you wish" replys his companion the other cars also stop and pull off to the side. Nibble jumps out and yells" What the hell are you guys stopping for we got mile s to go" "I saw something overthere" Nomad pleads The group scans the heavens and spots 5... NO 50 dots of light flying toward them. Prince Phun is the first to recognise their nature and says, "Hey guys, I really hate to spoil you're fun and all but those are Westinghouse 10 megaton thermonuclear warheads that are flying this way. And unless I miss my guess they were fired ontop of an MX missile at us." "What?!?!?" inquired Redd "I said, We're screwed bigtime" explained Phun Subject:Oh PLEAZZZZZZ..... Number:57 The Ripper Date:07/22/85 "Life is like a bonar, the harder it gets, the more you get fucked." "Shutup Rip" "What the hell is happening?" Yelled the General. "I don't know sir, the guidence system on the missiles is loosing track of the targets." responded the operator. "Dammit, I want those reds, I want to grab there balls and squezze out the life, I want them in my Hands..." Space was falling behind rapidly, The porche was in front of him, trying to stay back for cover purposes. Nomad was busy on the ECM equipment trying desperatly to save everbody's asses. There was a small speck just below the hoizen. It grew quickly an a Black and White checkered Countach flew passed, turned, spun twice, and caught up. "There is a roadblock ahead, just SWAT teams and police, all the guard units musta been transfered to the Mid-East with the rest of the army" "Well now what do we do?" retorted Nibble. "How about overland?" said Space. "No wait, there is junction ahead, it looks like a small country road..." Subject:So it was all a dream! Number:58 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:07/22/85 Special Agent Waldo Staehlin woke up with the most terrible headache he had experienced since his first lite beer. Reality and the dream state of REM sleep intermingled freely as he put on his housecoat and wandered into the kitchen. The room shifted slightly as he opened the refrigerator. Nothing inside? Hmm . . . he moved the empty gallon milk jug aside. Aha! A raw egg, in a glass. Better than nothing. He turned on the stove and poured the egg into a pan. Waldo was having a hard time remembering what had happened the night before. He could vaguely recall a sequence of events, starting with a call from his older brother Dave, and fuzzing out sometime around the time of a frantic call from SAC asking him if he knew anything about a missile attack on Texas. But where did reality end and his typically overactive FBI imagination begin? He wasn't sure of anything except for the fact that he was hellishly hung over, and that the damned egg wasn't doing anything but sputtering in the pan. Fear gripped his bowels as he realized that he may have been responsible for the deaths of literally thousands of United States citizens . . . even worse, thousands of U.S. Taxpayers! If things got out of hand he might even be reprimanded . . . something Waldo simply was unequipped to handle . . . . . . just then his roommate (Waldo, being a junior agent, didn't earn enough to have his own apartment) walked into the room, sniffed the air, and wandered over to the stove. He swirled the pan around, and then looked at Waldo with a puzzled look on his face. "Hey Wal, is there any particular reason you're trying to fry that avocado pit I was saving?" Subject:No Dear -- this is the dream -- you're still in the cell. Number:59 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:07/22/85 The guildsmen huddled around the small fire as dawn began to paint the eastern mountains. "As near as I've been able to figure out from monitoring the wire services," Count was saying, "some overzealous General at the Strategic Air Command got a phone call -- ostensibly from the President -- ordering him to launch a battery of nukes at us. The White House denies it, and personally, I believe them for once. Reagan is an asshole . . . " "An even bigger asshole since his surgery", interjected Prince Phun. " . . . but he's not the kind of guy willing to kill thousands of American taxpayers without a damned good reason, especially in a Republican congress- ional district." "So who placed the call?" asked Space as he flipped the top off of his can of Classic Coca-Cola. "One guess." "DAVE STAEHLIN!" chorused the group. "Yeah, that's what it looks like, but there's no way to prove it. In a way I suppose we're partially to blame, after all, we had all those SAC numbers that Siege sent me up on the board where Dave could get them, but frankly, he always seemed like too much of a pansy to do anything with them." Redd wandered over from the Coleman where a breakfast of bacon and REAL eggs was cooking. "Yeah, but from what you guys told me, the guys a fruitcake. There's no way you can tell what he'd do. We're just lucky the SAC sent out the recall signal in time . . . " he gestured to the south, " . . . or those craters over there would have been a lot bigger." "Well," said Rip as he pared his fingernails with his Britva, "that's the least of our problems. We still have a roadblock to get through, or maybe around, depending on where this little road leads . . . " Subject:5 A.M. and all is well (so far) Number:60 From:.synth. Date:07/23/85 The Pantera, parked at the side of the road, seemed to be sleeping, as was its driver. Then a small alarm could be heard going off inside the car. The alarm was switched off, and the engine elctronically roared to life. Headlights came on, and the Pantera was off. Not far down the road, yet another figure woke up. And let me emphasize FIGURE. The blonde girl stretched next to the bike that wasn't hers, and got up, wondering what the hell to do. She wished she didn't have to deal with this, wished that someone would rescue her. What happened to those guys with the expensive cars? As tears welled up in her blue eyes, the black Pantera came over the hill in the distance... Subject:So. Synth gets fucked and the SWPG gets fucked around. Number:61 From:Redd Slaver, who probably won't get laid for another 3 messages at least now. Date:07/23/85 On the Texas/New Mexico border, Dave Staehlin was sleeping soundly. The chill of the night air was only now beginning to be broken by the first warmth of daybreak, and Dave squinted and wrapped the sleeping bag tighter around himself. A smile formed on his sleeping face as he recalled the events of the previous night. They seemed almost too good to be true. He remembered watching the little trail of lights that was the SWPG caravan proceed east on I-40, through a pair of half-broken binoculars his brother Waldo had given him as a Christmas present. He remembered the glorious tracks of the justice-bringing MX missiles as their multiple warheads rained out of the sky. He remembered scrambling down the hill, putting its volume between him and the nearby detonations, and closing his eyes tightly to protect them as the world erupted in a brilliant flash of pure, lawful light. Rapture! He had been a little disappointed to learn that the missiles had been a little too far south, and that somehow the group managed to disarm most of the warheads, but it HAD been a good show. Perhaps the radiation would get them now. At any rate, people in high places certainly new about the Guild now!! And their vicous, immoral activities would soon be brought to a close forever. With that pleasant thought on his mind, Staehlin curled back up into a ball and dropped even lower into slumber. "OK," Rip was saying, "Here's the main plan of attack." The rest of the Guild was crowded around the hood of Rip's deadly vehicle, where he had spread out a small map of the impending roadblock. "We take all three cars through, at full speed, guns blazing. Space, you'll go first, see how many cop cars you can take out. I'll be concentrating on the motorcycle crowd, and Nomad, you'll be jamming their radio." [cont'd] Subject:"Quiet! Now here's my plan..." Number:62 From:Redd Date:07/23/85 Nomad nodded, understanding. The rest of the Guild was looking a little somber. What had begun as a simple joyride, a hit in the George Washington Hayduke "Fuck 'em over and fuck 'em over good" sense had become a serious battle for their lives. Nobody spoke. Nobody, that is, until Redd ventured, "Uh, Rip?" Rip, the Attackmaster, looked up. "Yes, Redd?" "Seems to me that this is a roadblock we're going through." Nibble replied acidly, "My, how perceptive of you." Redd continued. "Well, seems to me that the best way to avoid a roadblock . . ." ". . . Is not to be on the road!!" piped up Phun. "Yeah!" Hope sparkled into the eyes of the worried clan. Nibble asked, "Did you bring it? You DID bring it, didn't you? PLEASE tell us you brought it!!" After a well-timed strategic delay to keep 'em on their toes, Redd produced a small metal box with a few buttons on it. "Yep. I brought it." "What is it?" asked Rip, who was joined shortly thereafter by Space. "Yeah, what is it? Will it get us out of this?" Nibble was grinning maniacally. "It just might. It's the remote control to the flying saucer." Rip inhaled. "OOoooooh." As did Space. "AAaaaaah." Nibble took the device. "Shall I?" "Please do." Nibble punched the "reconstruct" button. A small green confirmation light lit up, and became a symbol of hope for the desperate men. They cheered wildly, they drank some more of Rip's homebrewed beer, they ran around in elated circles. Hope!! Dave Staehlin was just beginning to wake up. Subject:Enough trouble -- let's straighten thin Number:63 From: gs out. Space, to the rescue. Date:07/24/85 "Hey, Redd; turn off the damned TCTV. The signal from your box is screwing up the reception on it; sounds like a bloo dy soap opera in there!" I said, hearin g the blather coming across the airwave s. "Don't want the controls on the sau cer to jam, now do we?" "I got it," said Nomad, flicking the power off. "Okay, guys; we gotta get the Saucer unpacked; who brought it?" said Rip. We all looked at each other, and came to the realization all around that it h ad been left with the Jeep. "Well, SHIT!" said Phun, spitting fro m his plug of tabacco. "What the fuck are we gonna do now?" "I know!" Nomad piped up, "We can get the remnants of one of those missiles, and bluff our way through! Mount it on the front of the Pinto, and..." "Aw, JEEZ! Will you PLEASE stop with those dumb ideas?" Nibble shouted. "Well, I'd just like to thank Redd fo r his fantastic shooting; we probably a verted WW III when that missile didn't disarm," I said, pointing to the crater high on the hillside to the West. Subject:How to Avoid a Roadblock in 1 easy step Number:64 From:Space, the uncanny. Date:07/24/85 "Damn good thing the warhead didn't e xplode; 'course, the fuel DID make a ni ce flash..." noted Rip. "Okay, great; but what about the road block? We don't want to waste all our ammo getting through it." Nibble was ge tting nervous. "I think we MAY just be able to make it... A little help right now wouldn't HURT matters any..." said Rip. "Here's what we'll try... See that dirt road o ff to the North? We'll use that, and w ork our way on back..." * * * * * * The Pantera, idling efficiently at th roadside, with the blonde sitting snug gly in the curved bucket of the passeng er's seat, sounded restless to its driv er. "Only one thing to do", he thought ; "Catch up to that gang of terrorists and find out just what the hell is goin g on." He put the car in gear, checked the s nthesizer to make certain that he had a ll of the appropriate battle sounds ins alled, and headed East. Subject:Sorry about the Nukes...But read on. Number:65 From:J-EDGAR HOOVER Date:07/24/85 Meanwhile back in Waldo's apartment... Waldo was desperatly dialing the number of his eldest brother, Francois. He wa s a member of the RCMP. That's the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Waldo was s sure that He and Dave would need Francois' help...after all, A mounty ALWAYS Ge t's his man. Waldo stopped dialing, saying to himself,"Wait a second, Francois is in Oklahom a City for the Rodeo...PERFECT! That's in the Guild's path! He can head them off. But he'll need help, Dave can catch a plane from the first town he gets to with an airport...But he might be too late also. That means only one thing, I'll have to call my older brother, and Dave's younger, Jose Staehlin. Jose orks for the Mexican Federal Police and just happens to be in Dallas for a Lowr Lowridder competition. He can join up with Francois in two hours, I can be th ere in six, and Dave can be there in 4 to 8 hours. That should do it, A mounty , a federaly, A G-man, and a law abbiding System operator. The pirates don't stand a chance, 4 of us against all of them. HA! it'll be a slaughter." Waldo returned to the phone. This time dialing Francois and Jose at their hote ls. Jose was out so waldo left a message at the desk. Dave would be somewhat harder to reach. It would take over an hour on short wave radio to reach him but the message did get through...As soon as the pirates reached Oklahoma City, It would be a showdown! Back at the road block... Subject:Yes . . . back at the road block. Number:66 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:07/24/85 As the rest of the group ironed out the details of the roadblock plan, Nomad and Prince Phun decided to check out the remains of the warhead in the crater to the west. "Bring me back a souvenir, guys!" shouted Rip as they headed off. "As big a chunk as you can find!" Phun waved in response as they headed off. The hill really wasn't that far off, and soon the two Guildsmen were combing the landscape for signs of wreckage. There wasn't any -- the warhead's fuel tanks had exploded, leaving virtually nothing behind -- and so Nomad decided to kick back for a while and enjoy the view. Phun kept looking around, hoping to find something vaguely interesting to placate Rip. It was then that he noticed the thin column of smoke. "Hey, Nomad! Wake up and get over here with those binoculars! I have something more interesting than the sunrise for you to look at!" Nomad scrambled over and handed Phun the field glasses. "What is it?" "I don't know yet . . . some guy cooking breakfast . . . not enough light . . . if he'd just turn around . . . " "Well, if you figure it out, let me . . ." "HOLY SHIT!" "What? What?" "It can't be . . . it can't . . . " "WHO IS IT?" "I think it's . . . I think it's Dave!" "Bullshit, let me see . . . oh god, I think you're right!" "Damn, damn, damn . . . " "Well, what the hell do we do now?" "I don't know about you, but I'm going back to the campsite to tell everyone else. We'll have to take care of him before we can do anything about the damn roadblock . . . " Subject:Unfinished Business Number:67 From:The Ripper Date:07/24/85 Nibble was busy stuffing his face with a piece a bread as Phun broke into camp. "It's Steahlin, It's Steahlin!!!" "What?" said Space as he came up from the nude photos of Madonna in the Penthou e. "It's him," joined Nomad," We say him, he is cooking breeakfast over that rise, its him, its him its him." Redd and Rip walked over from the Countache to find out what was going on. "Calm down Nomad, he is over that rise, is he? Well we have some bussiness to 'transact with Mr. Staehlin." Chortled Rip, as he slide the Britva over his thumb. The black Pantara sped along the highway. The calm melodies of Jarre floated through the cab. All was calm. "Watch out!" screamed the girl. "what is this?" said Synth as he hit the brakes. The car stopped quickly, without a slide, and rested five feet away from a hulking big pot-bellied individual..... Subject:The "You In a HEAP O' Trouble Boy" Theory. . . Number:68 From:Redd Slaver Date:07/26/85 Synth turned a knob on the dashboard and the polarized front windshield, which had been slightly darkened to compensate for the bright sunlight, became more transparent. He frowned and took a breath as he studied the enourmous being standing in the way of his car. At this point he noticed that his passenger was trembling with fear, a reaction that did nice things to her upper body as it trembled too. Well, maybe she knew something. She evidently did. "Ohhh, get us o...out of h...h..here," she breathed. "What's the deal?" asked Synth. The deal made itself readily apparent soon enough. Synth retracted the polarized sunroof off and poked his head out. "Get out of the way, you ugly ox!" he called. The burly individual crossed his arms and took a firm stance, showing that he had no intention of doing any such thing. He spoke in a booming rumble: "The name's Rude Rebellious Richard, but that's just 'Mean Dick' to you. My buddy Big Phil's down here dead on this here road, and you got his woman in your little car there. You in a HEAP o' trouble, boy." Synth bridled. How best to deal with an illiterate street hunk? He glanced down into the car briefly to check that his digital sampler was on, for this asshole's voice was GREAT, even though the words it was saying were a little unwelcome. Take a digital copy of that voice, MIDI it through a good synthesizer, and who knows what he could come up with? But back the matter at hand. Synth called, "Look, Rude Cock or whatever you said your name was. The girl's with me, and that point's not open to discussion. Now clear your ugly ass off this pretty road before it gets cleared off for you." Mean Dick laughed, and Synth turned to find about 25 Hell's Angels pulling up in formation behind him . . . Subject:Dilemma Number:69 From:Redd Slaver Date:07/26/85 Mean Dick spoke again. "Now, boy, I'd best hear a little more RESPECT in that voice next time, or some buddies o' mine here will bust your face, your ass, your girl, and your car. Now that there's Big Phil's girl, and she's our property now. So you just hand her over and we'll have no more problems wit' you." Synth turned to look from Mean Dick, back to the roaring crowd of motorcycles behind him, down to the frightened girl, and back to Mean Dick. "No dice, Mean Dick. The girl stays with me." "You know we gonna kill your ass now, don't ya?" "We'll see about that." And in one smooth, flowing motion he dropped back into the heavily customized Pantera, turned on the engine and blasted forward, away from the crowd of bikers. He plowed into and through Mean Dick at abou 45 miles per hour, not a bad speed after only five feet of acceleration room. Mean Dick spun off to the side, and Synth muttered grimly, "Sure hope he didn't get the car dirty." The Pantera disappeared in a cloud of smoking rubber stench, leaving only the eerie wailing of its engine in its wake. The crowd of bikers took off after him, but it was a hopeless race. Mean Dick lay, battered but conscious, off to the side of the road. Dave Staehlin, watching from a nearby mesa, put down his binoculars and frowned. An idea was beginning to brew in his head. Subject:Not Quite A Certs Encounter Number:70 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:07/26/85 Count Nibble and Rip climbed up the hill, with Nomad and Prince Phun following them. Nibble was the first to reach the top and raised the binoculars to his eyes. "I don't see anything, guys," he said. "No smoke, no campfire, no signs of Dave." "He could be behind one of the rocks," offered Nomad. "Possible, but not likely. Anyway . . . nice view from up here. Sunrise makes those mountains look really pretty." said Nibble as he scanned the horizon. "What's that cloud of dust, Nibble?" asked Rip, pointing towards where the highway entered the mountains. Nibble re-aimed the binoculars obligingly. "Fuck," he said. "What? What? What's going on?" said Nomad. "Take a look, Rip," said Nibble. Rip took the binoculars. "Tell me if I'm crazy." "You're not crazy. It's a bunch of Hell's Angels. We'd better get back to camp and get going, or we'll be in a lot worse trouble than we were when it was just Dave." Just then, as if summoned, Dave stepped out from behind a boulder. "Hello boys," he said contemptuously. "Speak of the Devil and who drops in . . . " said Nibble . . . "That was quick!" shouted Space as the foursome walked into camp, carrying their unconscious burden. "Where did you find him?" "More like HE found US", commented Rip. "He was hiding up there." "He almost SHIT when he saw we were still alive!" put in Phun. "Rip kicked him in the balls, Nomad hit him with a rock, and the rest is history!" Subject:Enter Synth Number:71 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:07/26/85 " . . . oh GREAT!" yelled Redd. "I thought you said we'd be SAFE because that biker was a LONER!" Space kicked a small rock. "I thought we WERE, I guess he had friends in low places." "Well, that doesn't help us . . . now . . . hey, does anybody hear a siren?" Everyone nodded their assent. "It's coming from the west, but I didn't see any cops on the road while we were up there!" said Nibble. "Into the cars!" yelled Phun, who was putting finishing touches on the ropes holding Dave to the roof of the Pinto. "We can out run 'em easy!" "You seem to have forgotten that ROADBLOCK!" snarled Rip. The Pantera appeared. "It's Synth." said the Ripper. "NOW what the hell are we going to do?" demanded Nomad. "Sit tight," Rip hissed. "I don't know, but I'll think of something!" The Pantera swerved off the highway and slid to a halt in front of the motley crew. A head popped though the sunroof. "Anybody here want to take care of a buxom young blonde by the name of A.J. Broxson?" asked the head. "Granted, she's got 25 Hell's Angels after her . . . " "HOLY SHIT!" screamed Nibble. "HALF-TONE! IS THAT YOU?" "Hi, Count, yeah, it's me, but it's Synth now . . ." "You KNOW this joker?" said Rip to Nibble. "Yeah, I know him . . . of COURSE I know him! Guys, meet Half-Tone, Synth now, I guess . . . he designed the MIDI interface standard while we were both apprenticing at the Banzai Institute! How's it GOING, man?" Synth waved. "Rip, you said this guy was an old friend led astray by the power of money!" Synth laughed. "That's what he tells everybody . . . just because whenever I had any I wouldn't loan it to him!" "Well, it's all well and good that we're all good buddies," said Redd, "but we've got a problem on the way and I think we'd better start worrying about just what we're gonna DO . . . " Subject:JUST DESSERTS Number:72 From:NANDY Date:07/27/85 THE SUN POUNDED DOWN ON THE LONELY DESERT LIKE AN 18-WHEELER TAKING A WRON TURN IN THE ROCKIES. NANDY SWORE HE THA HE COULD HEAR HIS EYEBALLS SCREECH IN THEIR SANDY SOCKETS AS HE SCANNED THE DESERT FROM HORIZON TO DESOLATE HORIZON , FINDING ONLY THE BLEACHED REMAINS OF A THOUSAND YEARS OF DEATH AND DEHYDRATI ON. HIS SWOLLEN TONGUE FILLED HIS MOUTH AND INTERFERED WITH HIS LABOURED BREATH ING. OVERHEAD, VULTURES CIRCLED. HE HEARD THE FAINT SOUND OF SIZZLING SOMWHERE BEHIND HIM, AND HOPED THAT IT WAS HIS BRAIN SLOWLY CURDLING ITSELF "OVER EASY" -- NO, SURELY NOT OVER EASY "EASY" WAS AN ALIEN CONCEPT TO HIM AT T E MOMENT. IT HAD NEVER BEEN EASY, BEING AN UNOFFICIAL INTELLIGENCE AGENT, BUT IT HAD SOMEHOW BEEN REWARDING ...DESPITE THE BETRAYAL, DESPITE THE BICKERINGS AND POLITICS OF THE "CARRERISTS", DES- PITE THE FACT THAT HE WOULD NEVER BE ABLE TO SHOW ANYTHING FOR THE RIGORS HE'D SUFFERED OR THE SERVICES HE'D... Subject:N EVER S AY A NYTHING Number:73 From:NANDY Date:07/27/85 ...PERFORMED FOR HIS COUNTRY. IT SOME- HOW FELT RIGHT. HE THOUGHT OF TIME WHEN -----BUT WAIT WHAT WAS THAT!! A SHADOW PASSED OVER HIS PARCHED FACE. AN EAGLE, PERHAPS ATTRACTED BY THE VUL- TURES AND ANTICIPATING AN EASY MEAL, FLEW OVERHEAD AND CIRCLED IN FOR A CLOS ER LOOK. TO NANDY'S DELIRIOUS MIND, IT SEEMED RESCUE... A GLIDER FROM THE CIA, PERHAPS, OR HIS TRUSTED COMRADE ELAINE FLYING IN A SEARCH PATTERN OVER THE DESERT. NANDY FUMBLED AND TRIED TO WAVE HIS ARMS. THE EAGLE LANDED ON THE HOOD OF THE CAR AND WAITED FOR HIS MEAL TO STOP MOVING. AS THE EAGLE SAT MOTIONLESS, NANDY 'S FEEBLE ATTENTION FLICKERED, AND HE THOUGHT OF THE PERFIDIOUS CHAIN OF EVEN TS THAT LED HIM HERE TO THIS IMMINENT, IGNOBLE DEMISE. HE THOUGHT OF HOW HE HA D BEEN FOOLISH ENOUGH TO EXPECT GRATI- WHEN HE RETURNED TO EPIC (EL PASO INTELLIGENCE CENTER, LIASON BETWEEN A NUMBER OF INTELLIGENCE AGENCIES), HOW H E HAD MET WITH A COOL RECEPTION AND A SET OF BILLS...BILLS!! HOW HIS ONE-TIME FRIEND, DAVE FOSTER, HAD COME TO HIM ON THE SECOND DAY AFTER HIS RETURN (CONTIN Subject:NOW I SHOW MY TRUE COLORS Number:74 From:NANDY Date:07/27/85 WITH AN APOLOGY AND A OFFER TO HELP HIS COUNTRY ONCE MORE. DAVE HAD SEEMED TRU- L CONTRITE AS HE TOLD NANDY THAT HE WOULD NOT BE SURPRISED IF NANDY WAS TOO ANGRY TO ACCEPT, BUT FOSTER WAS EQUALLY ADAMANT THAT HIGHER-UPS HAD RULED THAT NANDY NOT BE TOLD HIS MISSION UNTIL HE WAS TAKEN TO VANDENBURG. ("VANDENBURG" NANDY REALIZED, WAS DAVE'S WAY OF RE- VEALING SOMETHING OF THE NATURE OF THE MISSION...IT WAS AN ILL CONCEALED SE- CRET THAT THE SPACE SHUTTLE ENTERPRISE WAS DUE TO LAUNCH ON A MILITARY ORBITAL IGNMENT IN A FEW DAYS. ONLY THE MOST GULLIBLE PERSON BELIEVED THE OFFICIAL STORY THAT IT WAS BEING USED FOR PARTS. (IF YOU HAD A CAR OFF THE ASSEMBLY LINE WOULD YOU DISASSEMBLE IT, OR CANNIBALIZ E AN UNFINISHED CAR?)) NANDY HAD ACCEPTED IMMEDIATELY (WHO COULD RESIST SUCH AN OFFER?), BUT WAS SURPRISED TO BE TAKEN IMMEDIATELY TO A WAITING CAR FOR TRANSPORT. A WAITING CAR THAT HAD WHAT APPEARED TO BE PIN- IPE-SUITED ARMED GUARDS. IT WASN'T UNTIL THE GROUP HAD PASSED THE SIDE ROAD LEADING TO WHITE SANDS THAT NANDY REALIZED THAT THE ROAD LOOKE Subject:WHICH HAPPEN TO BE FUCHIA/STRANGE Number:75 From:NANDY Date:07/27/85 THOUGHT TICCKLED THE BACK OF HIS HEAD. THIS WAS THE ROAD TO PORTALES. HIS WILDEST FEARS WERE REALIZED AS DAVE DROVE INTO AN UNDERGROUND GARAGE A T THE GREYHOUND SPORTS ARENA, AND HANDE HIM OVER THO ALISON "THE MAMA" HORNING. ALISON, WHO HAD ONCE SET HER SIGHTS ON MARRYING HIM SO SHE COULD RAISE HIS CHILDREN, TORTURED HIM FAR WORSE THAN AD EVER BEEN TORTURED BEFORE. DRESSED IN A BRIDAL VEIL, SHE FORCED HIM TO PUT ON DIAPERS AND CALL HER "MOMMY" AS HE SUCKLED AT HER BREASTS. IT WAS ONLY WITH THE DEVIOUSNESS BORN OF YEARS OF INTERMITTENT OPERATION AL EXPERIENCE, AND THE DESPERATION OF A CORNERED ANIMAL THAT NANDY HADE ESCAPED HE HAD DRIVEN THROUGH THE TRACKLESS WASTELAND UNTIL DAWN, WHEN HIS CAR GAVE . NANDY CURSED AND LOOKED UNDER THE HOO D. SUDDENLY, IN A BURST OF GOVERNMENT MANDATED SENSELESSNESS, THE ELECTRIC RADIATOR FAN HAD ACTIVATED (I'LL NEVER STEAL A LATE MODEL CAR AGAIN" NANDY THO UGHT... AND SMILED SARDONICALLY WHEN HE REALIZED HE WOULD PROBABLY NOT DO A LAR GE NUMBER OF THINGS EVER AGAIN) AND SNARED HIS NECKTIE, PULLING HIM INEXORI LY INTO THE ENGINE (CONT) Subject:NOW FOR THE PART I LIKE Number:76 From:NANDY Date:07/27/85 UNTIL HE MANAGED TO PULL THE WIRES LOOS E. IN HIS RELIEF, HE HAD FLOPPED ON HIS BACK ON THE ENGINE AND RESTED... UNTIL E FOUND THAT THE FAN SPRING HAD TAKEN I N THE SLACK, AND TRAPPED HIM. THE EAGLE STIRRED, SETTLING IN FOR THE LONG HAUL, AND PONDERED THE LUDI- CROUSNESS OF THE DYING HUMAN IN FRONT OF HIM. HIS MOTION BROUGHT NANDY'S MIND BACK FROM IT'S REVERIE, AND NANDY SCRAB BLD ABOUT FOR HIS I.D. "J'AI AVEC LE ...NO 'JE SUIS' AVEC LE SURETE, ET J'AI BESOIN THE VOTRE AUTOMOBILE -- NON 'J'AI BESOIN THE VOTRE JEUNE FILLE" HE RAMBLED INCOHERENTLY IN FRENCH. HIS MOT ONS SERVED ONLY TO SHIFT THE LOOSE SAND UNDER HIS FEET, AND HIS EYES BOGGLED AS HE WAS SLOWLY THROTTLED. IN A FIT OF DETERMINATION, HE PAINFU LLY PULLED OUT HIS I.D. AND DISPLAYED IT TO THE EAGLE. " I WORK FOR THE GOVER NMENT, HE SAID, AND I NEED..." WHETHER INSPIRED BY THE STYLIZED EAG E ON THE CIA ID, OR SIMPLY AROUSED BY THE SPARKLY OBJECT HELD BEFORE ITS EYES THE EAGLE EXTENDED AN ERECT PENIS, AND PISSED ON HIM. Subject:THE REVENGE OF THE NANDY Number:77 From:NANDY Date:07/27/85 ENRAGED BY THE ACT, NANDY EXPENDED HIS LAST RESERVES OF ENERGY AND OXYGEN TO LASH OUT AND WRING THE EAGLE'S NECK. UNFORTUNATELY, THIS RESULTED IN THE EAGLE SHIFTING FORWARD, THE HOOD TIPPIN G DOWN, MORE SAND SHIFTING BENEATH NAND Y'S FEET, AND WITH A MASSIVE TTHHHWWUUU MMMP!!!!, NANDY FOUND HIMSELF, SITTING ON THE GROUND, HIS TIE SEVERED BY THE HOOD LATCH, CLASPING A DEAD EAGLE. AND BREATHING, WHICH WAS BEST OF ALL. Subject:Back To the Days Of Slapstick.. Number:78 From:Rip Thrashboy Skuzzbopper Date:07/27/85 The Wandering stranger heard the sounds of thunder. He looked up the road and saw an interesting sight. A Black Pantara came over the rise, followed closly by a Porche Carreria, then a Ferrarie Testarosa, al moveing very quickly, and very dangerously, as the Itallion Stallion to at the rear almost hit him. "Rip, where the hell are you, I just passed a guy wearing a business suit, and standing next to a governmental-looking car. Goddammit Thrashboy, where are you...?" The stranded fellow watched as the trio disappeared over the end of the mesa. Suddenly, the sound of gunshots cracked the near silence. A hatchback lurched over the desert hill, it was camiflage painted, and had someone strapped onto the front hood. After that came a group of Bikers, who were swarming around the slower vehicle , firing shots at it, hiting it with club like objects. There was another burst of automatic weopons fire as the melee "passed" his car, seemly ingorant to his exsistance. Men-on-machines dropped like flies. Nandy heard richochets all around and the front windsheild of his car bursted into oblivion. He hit the dirt. The machines drove on, and what lie before him was pure carnage. He shut the hood of his car, and jumped into the seat. He tried the ignition, the car jumped to life and he pulled foward. He hit the brakes quick, something was in blocking his way... Subject:Dramatics-Hair Teeth n' eyeballs Number:79 From:All Over The Place!!! Date:07/27/85 It was a figure clad in black leening against a checkerboard Lambourgini. He leaned out of the car a yelled"Get out of the way-You Jerk!" The figure smiled, the wind blew his bleech-blond mohawk back. Nandy got out of the car and walked over to the young punk, he was a good six inches taller than his oppressor, and he used it to his advantage. "Listen shorty, get out of my way, this is Government business. I could arrest you now, but I havn't the time." The Boy laughed loudly, and said only two words, "FUCK YOU!" Nandy then pulled out his S&W, he started to raise it, but before he could, he felt something brush his other arm. He looked down to see that his Brand new Outfit was riuned by a red liquid. he looked closer, and saw that his arm was spewing blood, pumping it out of his arteries. He felt faint as the shock hit him, arms caught him. then a hand slapped him back to conscienceness. "Wake up, Time to die.." There was the roarof an engine, then everything went black. "Rip, what are you dragging,?" asked Nibble, who had finally circled back" We need you up here." "Oh, our friend." "looks like hald of a friend to me" "Yah, amazing how strong the human body is, I pulled his car about twelve feet, before he broke...." Subject:Wow . . . Total banzai Max Max/Road Warrior Action Sequence! Number:80 From:The Loveable /\/oo\/\ Date:07/27/85 George Miller would have been pleased. Rather than being scuttled by the appearance of Synth and the Hell's Angels, and especially Dave, the plans for taking out the roadblock had been enhanced by them. The situation had changed a bit since Rip's initial sighting, though. What was once merely a SWAT team and three police cars had more than doubled in size. But that just made Rip grin a bit more maniacally. Of all the people involved, Dave Staehlin had the best view . . . but noone envied him it. He was tied face-up to the hood of the Pinto Wagon, with his head -- hanging upside down in front of the grille -- mere centimeters from the surface of the blacktop. He resisted an urge to throw up his breakfast as the road zipped by at over 80 miles per hour, because it would have ended up all over his face. The Pinto, of course, led the tightly-packed single-file formation of cars. The bikers had stopped attacking the heavily-armoured warmobile and had moved on to more interesting targets -- like Rip's checkered Countach. There weren't many bikers left anyway. Following the Pinto (with Space and A.J.) was the Pantera with Synth and his new navigator (deposed by the buxom Miss Broxson) Redd. Behind them followed Phun in the Porsche Carerra, Nibble and Nomad in the Testarossa, and Rip and the bikers in the back. A.J. opened fire as the lead car approached the roadblock, concentrating on vehicles rather than humans. Two of the cops chickened out right away, pulling their police cars back off the highway and ducking onto the floorboards of the vehicles. The others later wished that they had done the same. Space slowed the Pinto as they got closer, and A.J.'s fire from the 7.62 minigun on top of the Pinto literally cleared the way . . . Subject:Oh boy more fun stuff! Number:81 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:07/27/85 Dave Staehlin got his head out of the way just in time, as the Pinto rammed what was left of the police cars making up the roadblock right out of the way. The cops weren't firing . . . Dave had them worried on one hand, and on the other, Ariel had started working on them with the minigun. Those that made the mistake of popping up to fire at the car quickly had a few dozen "reminder" rounds fly between their legs or take a nick out of their ear. Finally a swath JUST wide enough for the convoy had been cleared. Synth, who had been hanging back waiting for an opening, gunned the engine and flew towards the gap. Redd covered him with automatic weapons fire as he hung out of the sunroof. The rest of the convoy followed, at speeds of nearly 120 miles per hour, and slid through the narrow opening like hot knives through butter. A few of the remaining bikers weren't paying attention, and ended up as little more than indentations in the sides of the SWAT vans as their bikes slammed into the remains of the lead police cars. Rip, of course, had to get in the last word. As he pulled through the slot, he tossed one of his homemade masterpieces out the window and it landed on the road behind him. A few seconds later it exploded. Other than some demolished SWAT vans and a 15-foot crater, there was very little left of the roadblock. Around a small (and illegal) campfire in Caprock Canyons State Park, about 75 miles southwest of Amarillo, the Guild members -- old and new -- partied long into the night, and wondered where they would go next. Nibble argued that they should forget Florida and focus instead on the Rocky Mountain region, and Rip argued right back at him. But eventually the campfire grew, the arguments faded, and the festivities continued until the sun threatened to peek over the hills to the east. The Guild, for the first time in a long time, hadn't a worry in the world. Subject:However... Number:82 From:MIDI AMIN Date:07/29/85 While the Guild et al was having a good time, Dave, like the weasel that he gives such a bad name, managed to chew through the ropes that held him to the hood of the car. Since the Guild was concentrating so hard on having a good time, he made quite a clean gettaway. He ran off into the darkness in search of a phone booth.... Subject:Midnight-all night Number:83 From:The Ripper Date:07/30/85 "He Got away" said Phun. "Yah, but he will be back, he can't stay away." commented Nomad. Rip walked over to his car, he pulled out the homing detecter. Sure enough, Dave was heading for Amarillo. Well we would know were he was. He put it away and checked over his vehicle. There were the two claymore slots over the wheels on each side, and the forward and the rear seeamed to be ready also. Each had five refilles that would slide into the slot after the one before was used. With the Help of Phun, he reloaded the caltrop slide and the mine slide. The Nitric Idodine would explode inside the pie tins when anything ran over them. He cleaned the Gibson Blower that was mounted on the top of the cockpit of the car. Checked the pulgs, and the line. He went into the car and mad a system check, everything was ok, except for one blinking LED light, above the light read the gas gauge. He checked all of his equipment. His Britva, his only gun was the S&W Model 36 that he lifted from Nandy's body. The fuck-up only had 24 rounds, nd the whole situation was fucked. He would have to abtain a different weapon. He also had his Anarchy Pack, which carried all the nessacities. There were also a few odds and ends;a pair of Num-Chucks, a big tank lighter/flamer, a pair of handcuffs, a home made anti-tank rocket, a few chemicals, and finally about 50 feet of nylon rope, oh, and of course his always present skateboard. "I think we need some more equipment" he said to Nibble, whop was also checking his stuff. "Yah, I think you are right, we should, what are we near?" he asked Redd "Well....." Subject:Morning...of sorts Number:84 From:.synth. Date:07/31/85 Redd thought for a minute. "Well, the only real place that we can go is probably Oklahoma City, of course there are the various Texan shitholes on the way, but I don't know if we should go out of our way. Does anyone have a map?" Redd looked around, and realized that he and Rip were the only ones up. Everyone else was definitely crashed. Nibble was propped up against a boulder , Nomad slept soundly with his hands folded across his chest, Phun slept inside his Porsche, smiling in his sleep, and Space was zipped up in a sleeping bag with you-know-who. Oh wait , Synth was up. As Redd completed his survey, he tried to see Synth through the darkened windows of the DeTomaso. Rip spoke up. "Well, boys and girls, I think this calls for some proper wake-up action." He started for the jug of ice water in the Pinto. However, he stopped when heard a certain set of high-powered speakers click on. He plugged his ears. In a perfect military bugle, the Pantera blasted a resounding version of Devo's Shout, scaring everyone to conscioussness as dawn broke... Subject:Destination Sort of Unknown bot not really Number:85 From:Redd "ROMbo" Slaver Date:07/31/85 Eventually everyone was up, some more than others. Space and A.J. snuggled in the sleeping bag as Phun was dispatched for some coffee. He was none too thrilled, but the thought of pulling into a 7-11 in a Porsche Carrerra brightened his mood somewhat. He sped away. Redd, Nibble, and Rip were conferring. "The way I see it," Redd was saying, "We need spare tires, extra gas, and extra ammo." "LOTS of ammo," called Space. "Right, lots of ammo. Well?" "This is tricky," said Nibble. "Oklahoma City seems the best bet so far, but what's there for sure? I'VE never been there. Has anyone else?" Nobody had. (Or at least, nobody would admit it). "Well Shit," said Rip. "How do we know what to knock over if we don't know what's there?" Redd and Nibble looked dejected, as did Synth and Nomad, who had joined them by this time. "Looks like there's only one option left," said Redd. "What?" asked Synth. In response, Redd produced a map of -- you guessed it -- Austin, Texas and spread it out on the hood of the Countach, to the limited degree that it is possible to spread ANYTHING out on the hood of a Countach. Rip watched him warily. "Don't let the map scratch the car," he warned. [cont'd] Subject:The Importance of Knowing What to Look For Number:86 From:Redd Date:07/31/85 Redd was pointing to the map. "Now I-35 enters Austin from the north, here. And just off to the right is . . ." ". . . Bergstrom Air Force Base!" finished Rip. "Fuckin-A!" "Right. So, there's got to be plenty of supplies on an AFB ... " "Ammo?" called Space hopefully. "Right, lots of ammo. Shall we go?" "Yeah, why not." concluded Synth. "Where's that coffee?" Subject:The Count's interesting experience. Number:87 From:MIDI AMIN Date:08/01/85 Pulling into a Circle-K with a Ferarri is not the best way to be inconspicuous, but it sure is fun. Every eye in the place was straining to see what the owner of such a machine would look like. He didn't have much of a problem getting in and out quick: everyone was so awestruck that they all moved out of his way like it would kill them not to. Not to say that there were a lot of people in there at that time in the morning but there was quite a bit of tension and a lot of silence there. He casually told the clerk that he would be filling up his car and would want his coffee. He went out, filled up the tank and when he came back in, there was the coffee, all ready. Thanking the clerk, he walked back out and left. The security personel found out by viewing the film in the automatic camara that a person's name has a lot to do with how that person looks. Seeing as how the camara had an internal mirror system, they couldn't figure out who the clerk was talking to, because he wasn't there....... Subject:"EVERYBODY WANTS SOME..."\ Number:88 From:SKUZZBOPPER Date:08/01/85 Pvt. Brown was the only one on watch at the guard-house. He was busy looking at old Madonna pictures when he heard a strange noise. He looked up the only street into the base. He saw nothing, but heard the same grounding type noise. The he saw something crest the rise. It was a teenager, he was riding a skateboard. As he came over the top, he started weaving back and forth snaking down the street. He was wearing a pair of checkered shoes, a blood red-neon green checkered pair of bermuda shorts, and a T-shirt that said "Fuck Authority!" in large red writing. ~Brown was used to this sort of hoodlum, there were alot of these in town. He gripped his M-16 rifle, and put it on his back, and walked out of the small guard implacment. The skater hit the level part of the street an kept on coming. He slowed , and the spun around and kept going down a drainage ditch that crossed the street and went parrallel to the gate. The private walked down to the embankment to check on the insergent. He heard the grounding sound of the wheels-on-concrete slowly drain into nothing he boarder left. Brown turned the corner and and was met by a surprising sight. The youth wa s sitting on the hood of a black car, smiling, while his blond mohawk bent into forward as he smiled. At this poin, Private Brown was hit very...very... hard on the head, with a large skateboard. "Good job Synth, had the Monkey fooled real Horrorshow" A voice came out of the car, "thanks Rip. I call in that segment one is complete..." Subject:Do What You Do-But Know Why Your Doing It! Number:89 From:The Ripper Date:08/06/85 The Night came down.... The duty sergent drove his jeep confidently towards the gate. He passed the rows of M-1 and M-60 tanks, the rows of APC's, the rows and rows of military hardware. He felt very good, for tomorrow was Saturday, and he would be on lea ve for the whole weekend. No such luck.... He approached the gate, at about twenty feet he noticed that there was no guard at the gate. He stopped and walked towards the empty barrier. He went inside and looked about. It looked normal, except for the absents of the guard private. He heard the sound of a bolt sliding behind him and a voice said, "Move it, and loose it." He turned slowly and faced his oppressor. It was a gi rl, a naked girl holding a M-16 about mid chest level. He was so awed be this sight, that he barly felt the the large lead pipehit the back of his head and bring him into the world of dreams. "Redd, you there?-Over" "Yah Nibs, I am here.-Over" "You take Synth and Nomad. Head over to the water tower, the armory should be around there. Secure that building and what for our signal.-Over" "Gotcha, will coply.-Over" Two black claded figures sneaked into the car pool, leaving a trail of bodies behind it as it went. "Rip, Your too damn voilent" "Bullshit" Subject:So...... Number:90 From:MIDI AMIN Date:08/12/85 The three figures stalked quietly over toward the water tower. Looking through the window of the nearest shack revealed three other figures that looked rather military. Finally coming up with an idea to use, Rip chose a flare cartridge with no report. He fired the flare into the room (the order room. The armory is closed off from it in this building.) and ducked. As soon as the flare died, he stood up and shot the remaining two guards. "All clear, over." "Good job, Rip. Over." Subject:Filling the Gap Number:Unknown From:Count Nibble Date:10/06/85 "Okay, Rip, A.J. and I'll take off now and make sure there aren't . . . what? Cops? Roadblocks?" "Whatever, Nibble. Just GO and clear the way. It'll take a few minutes for us to get the armory open and we may have to leave in a hurry." ----- Rip looked up from his handfuls of ammo and saw exactly what he didn't want to see. An MP. "Boy, just what in the HELL do you think you're doin'?" Rip grinned and tried to look innocent. No mean feat. "Just stealing your ammo, Mister M.P. . . " Phun jumped from the shadows and crushed the M.P.'s skull with the butt of an M-16. The butt cheerfully shattered upon impact. "Nice job, Phun," said Rip. "Let's get the rest of this shit and get outta here before . . . " Just then, a siren began to wail in the distance. "SHIIIT! LET'S MOVE!" Subject:Kill the Poor Number:91 From:The Thrashboy Date:09/16/85 The arid terrain flew by like the wind as two 400+ horsepowered cars skimed a road somewhere in Texas. About 20 minutes behind them was another group af vehicles, names are unimportant, but one was black, one was white, and one was, well one was differ ent. And following behind them was a very large group of military-looking machin es. But these were only 10 seconds behind the last group. "Shit, They arre tearing us to hell back here, Space are you trring to help or what?" "Yah man, I am letting loose with everything, what the hell are you doing to he lp Phun?" "tTrying to stay alive." There was suddenly a new voice on the channel. " "Cut the chatter, somebody tell me how it went." It was the voice of Count Lalzo Nibble. "Well Synth is hit and is out," Said Redd, who was driving the unconsciencous ones' car, "Phun is trying real hard to dodge death, Nomad is with Space trying to deal some." "Were is Rip?" the voice returned. "Dunno," said Space," He took off with a truck full of hardware and said he'd catch up." "Dammit, Space, Just picked up something on the radar," shouted Redd" enemy craft bearing 029, range 26 clicks, see them...?" Subject:Welcoming Committee Number:92 From:.synth. Date:09/20/85 Space picked up his visual scanning once the new pursuers were in such range. "They look to me like UH-1s...two, maybe three of 'em," he radioed back to Redd. "Doesn't look good..." Redd glimpsed down. "Space, I think Synth is consciousness. What should I do?" "Keep driving," Space said back. "And hope he's not in too much pain." Back in the Pantera, Synth stirred and blinked his eyes groggily. "...oh my God....." he groaned. "What the hell's going on...? Where am....HEY!" he lifted his head with a start. "Who's driving my CAR??!" His newfound energy was quickly stifled once he realized that sitting up gave him a terrible headache. He slumped again into semi-consciousness. "Hey Synth! Wake up!" Redd cried. "How can we take out these choppers? Synth!!" he glanced down to see Synth's semi-conscious form when he was frightened by an explosion just outside the drivers' window. "Space! The choppers are firing at us! What the hell do we do?!" "Calm down! I don't know, A.J. can't hit 'em! And Rip is somewhere off in neverneverland. You tell me!" "Space, don't tell me to tell you, goddammit! I'm shitting bricks trying to drive this damn car!" More explosions rocked the Pantera. "Space, aren't you getting shot at?!" "OF COURSE I'm being shot at, I'm behind you, remember?" Space looked out his rear-view mirror to see one of the pursuit choppers closing on him FAST. "A.J., what's wrong? Can't you hit 'em?!....A.J.?! A.J., can you hear me?! A.J.!!!!" Subject:All Shook Up Number:93 From:.synth. Date:09/20/85 "Space, what's wrong?" Redd was now totally confused, aside from being already terrified out of his mind. "What happened to A.J.?!" "Jesus, I don't know! A.J., speak to me," Space tried to divide up his attention between the road and his girl. "Redd, I think she's out..." "You mean dead?!" "I don't know if she's dead! I didn't hear any gunfire hit the car!" "But without her, we have no defense! We're not gonna make it, Space! SPACE!!" Next to Redd, Synth was stirring once again. But this time he remained conscious, remembering not to lift his head. Instead, he reached for his mounted keyboard behind the seat, which swung around to the front, nearly hitting him in the face. He reached for the ON switch. Up in front, the Testarossa and the Countach were feeling the effects of the pursuing copters, narrowily missing several blasts. Nibble said over the radio to start swerving in the road as an evasive maneuver. Back in the Pantera, Synth had his system up and running. Redd caught Synth's half-awake movements out of the corner of his eye. "Synth! What the..." The screen on the lower dashboard lit up, saying: RESONANT FREQUENCY: calculating (wait...) (cont'd) Subject:All Shook Up Part II Number:94 From:.synth. Date:09/20/85 Below the message, a numerical display was in a frenzy, trying to find the right value. Redd couldn't guess as to what Synth was trying to do, but didn't complain as he saw the Pinto behind him surrounded by explosions. "Space, are you okay?" Space's voice sounded shaken. "Redd, we better think of something..." "Hang on! Synth is doing something! Just HANG ON!" Redd looked down at the screen. The numbers just kept flipping around, never stopping on a definite value. Something exploded in front of the Pinto. Space screamed. "SPACE!!" Then... RESONANT FREQUENCY: located >> 26.7418226 MHz Target vector: 114.724 ft 22.31 degrees INTENSITY PRESET AT 130 decibels *** ENGAGE *** An ear-splitting shriek emanated from the Pantera. The lead helicopter started shaking violently. Wavering in mid-air, it struck one of the other two copters, engulfing them both in a huge fireball. The other pilot suddenly veered off, heading as far away as possible from the SWPG convoy... Subject:Part One -- Explanation Number:95 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:09/23/85 "Hey Space," Nibble's voice crackled over the radio, "Whaddya want with A.J.?" Space was still shaken, so Nomad's voice formulated a reply. "He thinks she's dead, Count . . ." "Bullshit. She's in the fuckin' bathroom. We're at a Circle 'K' in Wichita Falls. Place your orders now, guys, they have Super 78 Ounce Slurpees for only 65 cents . . ." "NIBBLEEEEEE!" screamed Redd. "WE'RE GETTING OUR FUCKING ASSES BLOWN OFF HERE! WHAT ARE WE SUPPOSED TO DO??" "Don't ask me, we're up here, you're back there. It was Rip's idea for us to take off ahead of you guys. Hasn't he shown up yet?" "No he . . . no he hasn't," replied Redd as an explosion shook the Pantera. "Shit, Nibble, the ground forces are starting to catch up with us! Synth and I have taken a hit, and you know how the Pinto is . . . " Nibble took a bite out of his Microwave Burrito and pondered. "Wehh," he muttered through the tortilla and ground beef, "gehh Nommed to uesh the gun on the Pinto to hohd aff the troopsh, ann A.J. ann I'll be therr ash suun ash we can. Gehh Synff to scamm the rabio for Rip, if he'sh out dehr he'sh bodcashtin shomehow . . ." "Okay, Nibble, get out here. Synth's working on it as best he can given the circumstances . . . " --- On a side road near Benjamin, Texas, Rip pulled the truck off to the side of the road to relieve himself. On the way back he decided to take a look under the tarp to see what he had come away with. "SHIIIIIIIITTTT!!!!!!!" Subject:Exit Carrara . . . Enter . . . ? Number:96 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:09/23/85 Phun was alone in the Carrera when the shell hit. FATOWWWWWWWMMMMMM! when the charge as it hit the road just in front of him. He had no time to swerve, and so the car's right front tire blew out as it hit the fresh crater at nearly 100 miles and hour. The front axle broke with the force of the impact, and as Phun desparately tried to bring the car under control, the ground effect literally wafted the car up off the road surface. Airborne, Phun had no control over the car and quite promptly soiled his underwear. The car slid to a stop on its roof some five hundred yards later. Phun undid his five-point seatbelt and nearly broke his neck as he fell onto the car's roof, just as Space and Nomad spun around to a quick stop next to him. "GET ME THE FUUUUCK OUT OF HERE!!" screamed Phun as Nomad cleared away what was left of the driver's side window glass. "My car! My car! My fucking car is TRASHED! ARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!" Space dragged him out of the wreck and towards the Pinto. "Shut up and grab a gun, Phun," said Nomad. We'll have to make a stand against the ground forces from right here." Redd and Synth skidded up in the Pantera. "Oh, SHIT! Another chopper!!! Synth . . . " Synth nodded waekly and began to start punching something into the keyboard, but Redd stopped him. "Those aren't UH-1's, and I don't remember seeing any- thing but UH-1's at the base. MY GOD! It just took out one of the personnel trucks back there! Do you think . . . " Space grinned. Subject:He's Back! Number:97 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:09/23/85 Rip toyed with a control, and the chopper let loose with a barriage of rockets, destroying three trucks and damaging another. Another control fired an anti- tank shell into a jeep. Overkill. Rip loved it. His new toy was well designed, and he was a quick learner. He had almost creamed his pants when he had lifted the tarp and discovered an A129 Mangusta Light Attack Helicopter, and was overjoyed to find that it was easier to fly than his Countach was to drive. He had followed the highway at full speed until he had caught up with the ground forces from the base, and was now picking off the last of the olive-drab menaces one by one. Soon his task was done, and he set down in front of his astonished colleagues. "Awwww, looks like your Carerra is a little ill, Phun," he said. "Hop into the rear seat, and we'll see about catching up with Nibble and A.J." "Where in the HELL did you FIND that, Rip?" shouted Redd over the rising noise of the rotor blades. Rip just waved, not hearing. "Phun," said Rip through the intercom, "when we get where we're going, remind me to get this thing painted . . . " Subject:Chapter Two Number:98 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:9/29/85 A brisk breeze whipped around the A-frame cabins, blowing snow and making the night seem even colder as Redd walked the path from the woodpile to his door- way. It was cloudy, but enough light from the full moon got through the cover that he could see his way without a flashlight. As he kicked the snow off his boots, he savored the beautiful picture-postcard view and thought back over the events of the past several months. The running, the chasing, the incessant destruction . . . all that had finally gotten to be too much for the group. The near-loss of both Phun and Synth in the space of a single afternoon was the final straw. That evening, after a camp had been established, a heated argument between Nibble and Rip came to blows. Nibble wanted to shut down, to turn back and go into hiding until all that had happened had blown over. Rip wanted to go on, and defended his point vocally. Nibble went too far -- uttering a tasteless remark about an old girlfriend of Rip's. Rip nearly broke Nibble's neck. The group split. Nibble, Synth, Redd, and A.J. headed back overland to Colorado, to a set of high-mountain cabins that were owned by a friend of Nibble's. Rip, Phun, Space, and Nomad headed off in another direction. Destination unknown. Rip's group got the Pinto and Rip's Countach, Nibble's the Testarossa and the Pantera The Mangusta was left in a burning heap of metal in the middle of the highway. Nibble and company made it to Colorado and the cabins, leaving the cars behind in Gunnison. They had been in the cabins since September. It was almost Christmas. Since the split, they had not heard one word from Rip, Phun, Space, and Nomad. Subject:A break in the storm . . . ? Number:99 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:9/29/85 The only lights in the darkened cabin came from a flickering candle in the corner and the ever-present soft green glow of Nibble's computer screen. David Gilmour's guitar played quietly in the background as Nibble and A.J. looked out over the valley and snuggled. "You're very beautiful, you know that, don't you?" smiled Nibble as he ran his fingers through A.J.'s hair. "So you keep telling me," said A.J. She leaned over and kissed Nibble on the ear. "Be a dear and put another log in the fireplace," she whispered huskily, "or I'll cut your balls off." "I've got another log I'd like to put someplace . . . " grinned Nibble as he got up and moved to the pile of wood on the floor. "I noticed. Lecher." She took another sip from her glass of wine. "I wonder . . . " Nibble cut in. "You, me, Redd, Synth, and the whole damned U.S. Armed Forces. If Space was able to talk any sense into Rip, they're holed up too, just like us." He stirred the coals a bit. "I haven't been able to find out squat from the wire services, or anyone else for that matter. Not worth worrying about." He sighed. "Still . . . " A.J. leaned back. "Yeah. Well. Not a lot we can do about it. C'mere, cutie. I have your Christmas present." Nibble grinned. "Not Christmas yet," he said, plopping down next to her. "Who cares? Channukah, then . . . " She kissed him. Interrupted, of course, by a pounding fist on the door. "NIBBLE! A.J.! GET OVER HERE! SYNTH FOUND SOMETHING ON THE RADIO!" Subject:Well! Number:100 From:Redd Slaver Date:9/30/85 The four men trudged slowly down the hallway, whispering to each other. "Now remember," Rip was saying, "We have to lay on the patriotic bullshit as heavy as possible." "Right." agreed Phun. "Give 'em a good dose of 'truth, justice, and the American way.'". Space frowned. "I don't know, guys." he said. "This'll be the toughest job of acting I've ever had to do." "You've got to try, Space," said Nomad. "We all need to be very convincing." "All right, I'll do my best." They reached the end of the hallway. Deep in the basement of the Hoover FBI building, they read the ominous inscription on the door: WALDO STAEHLIN RECRUIT AND REGISTRATION ******************************************************************************* Waldo was unhappy. After botching his last assignment so badly, he had gotten stuck down in this ... this ... this RATHOLE! The basement of the Hoover building was far from spacious, warm, or comfortable. He hated it. He never got to talk to anyone. He heard a noise outside, and looked up just in time to see the door open. And in walked four of the meanest-looking people he had ever seen in his life. Subject:Four More Bricks in the Wall Number:101 From:Redd Date:9/30/85 Waldo was afraid, briefly. But, always a master of rationalization, he quickly thought his way out of it. "Surely," he thought, "the only reason people come down here is to join my department. If they had wanted to kill me, they would have never made it past the security upstairs. Surely." He was a bit relieved when the one with the blond mohawk spoke. "Excuse me? We came to join." Waldo became instantly businesslike and professional. "Join, of course. Welcome to the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Computer and Electronic Crimes division, gentlemen. I'm sure you'll like it here." Now it was Rip's turn to be taken aback. "You mean, that's it? No long forms, no loyalty tests, no regulation haircuts, no nothing?" "Nope," said Waldo. "The CEC division has had something of a personnel shortage for some time, and all recruits are welcome. Your continued employment, of course, will be based on your performance, but for now, we trust you." He gave them each a small card with a room number printed on it. "Please report to this room at 9 AM next Monday morning. It's one of the data-collecting rooms for the Electronic Crimes division. You'll be collecting information from several suspected pirate bulletin-boards around the country. Dress is casual." The four men walked out, dazedly, looking at their cards. They had regained composure by the time they got outside. "YEAH!!" shouted Rip. "Finally, a chance to get at the FBI from the best place ... the inside!" The group nodded evilly. Sooner or later, the FBI would fall. Subject:Back in the mountains Number:102 From:Redd Date:9/30/85 Synth was struggling to tune the radio. He had to do it by hand, having left most of the electronic gear in the car. (By Nibble's request, of course, he had mumbled something about "roughing it.") He heard the footsteps of Redd returning, with Nibble and A.J. in reluctant pursuit, and called over his shoulder, "Hey, guys! Hold it down, I'm trying to tune this in!" The other three arrived. Through the static they heard: "...and the Senators SKREEEEEEECH ... lost again, making them 2 and SKREEEEEEECH. And that about wraps it up for the SKREEEEEEECH sports tonight." "Jesus, Redd," said Nibble, "You interrupted us for this?" A.J. gave him a friendly squeeze in a very friendly place. Synth hissed "Sssshhh!" as the radio began crackling again. "And now back to SKREEEEEEEEEEECH top story tonight. The FBI today said SKREEEEEEEECH should be much aided by four former computer criminals who SKREEEEEECH joined the FBI today. The group SKREEEEEEECH full amnesty, and the FBI said no charges will be SKREEEEEEECH. More on ..." "Christ," breathed Nibble. "The looneys have gone and joined the FBI!" "Surely not," said Redd. "Surely they just want to infiltrate and play hell with the computer crimes division . . .?" "Surely." said A.J. "But you never know Rip ... he may still be pissed at us, even after all this time." "Yeah," said Synth. "This doesn't look good, folks." Nobody spoke. Subject:The Return Number:103 From:The Ripper Date:MONDALE! Nomad sat in front of the monochrome screen, staring off into the infinate wastlands of the computer world. His assignment sucked big time, but he had to the make the best of it. "You there," a voice came from the door," you should be trying to trace those illegal calls, don't you now what your here for?" Nomad looked up into the silly face of Mr. Staehlin and said two words. In the machine shop, Space lit up a cigarette and sat down for a while. They had all been split up for some reason, probably security, but why him to the machine shop? He had heard from Phun. Hew had said that he and Nomad had been aassigned to track down phreakers and that both had quite the job after the first month. Well, it seemed the whole gang was getting back together, save one. The cool air at 2100 feet felt good on Rip's weary face. He watched the burning hulk of the F-14 scream down into the dense Colorado woodland. The air carried him down slowly, very slowly. He started thinking about the old times, when his buddies and he would raise hell throughout the country with the touch of a phone button. But it was over, and he was flying recon over the nation looking for...looking for what? Well, he new what, he was looki ng for his past. Redd sat in the cabin. Synth was beating him again at mumbly-peg, but he didn't care. He watched the fire smolder, and then started wondering what to d o for real excitement. "Synth, lets go into town. Let's go into town and do something different." Subject:... Number:104 From:Skuzzy Date:MONDALE! Nibble watched the black car pull out into the snowy dark. He didn't want to know where they were going, or why. "What's up?" querried A.J. "There going out, they be back, they won't leave forever." Nomad and phun were waiting for Space at the airport. "Well, any idea where in Colorado?" asked Nomad. "Probably near Peublo, Nibs always liked it there." returned Space. He started loading the lugage into the Cessna. "I hope we can find them, and they will want us to." Synth pulled into the McDonalds, and turned of the engine. Redd got out and wanlked over to the glass door. The two got some food and sat down. The local Muff was gathering about the parking lot and the restaraunt, it would be a good night. The Guard opened up the large Warehouse and gave Space a box. He then proceede d to walk back towards the office while Space opened to box and came up with some keys. The three walked into the dark building. Then there was the sound of an engine starting, soon followed by the sight of a Cameflage Pinto rolling out into the night. Nomad saw the Familiar green sign say "Peublo 256 miles" Subject:The Pros and Cons... Number:105 From:Rip Thrashboy Skuzzbopper Date:MONDALE! Rip put the last shovel-full of dirt onto the black parachute. He stood up and unpacked his Skate-board, his walkman and a tape. The Eagles sounded real good on this sort of evening. He pushed off and started rolling down the deserted highway, one hand out with the thumb exstended. Synth and Redd got a motel room and spent the night in town. The night was not quite, for the blond and the Redd-head were excellent company. Unfortunatly, the are still laws in Colorado, and statitory rape is one of them. The three took turns driving and were able to put into Peublo about three in the morning. The only place with a vacancy was a Motel Six on the edge of t own. "Why do the fucking 'Law Inforcement Union' hafta have their fucking convention in this goddamn town?" grunted Phun. The girl in the Mazeratte had excellent taste in music, and undergarments. Rip was left about five miles out of Pueblo, the girl had to take the Highway and he wanted to go into the heart of the city. Besides the skate in the cool winter air would do him good, as if the muscle toning of unbridled love-making hadn't helped him out already... Subject:Hitching? Try DRIVING it sometime! Number:106 From:Space, the LOST... in. Date:10/05/85 Having succesfully located Pueblo and a night's lodging (with full poice pro- tection), Space, Nomad, and Phun were out to locate a "morning" meal and a dest ination. ANY destination. Pueblo was a long way from anywhere, and Nibble and co. were probably a good bit farther. "Hoo, but I HATE morning. It's the one time of day when the animal life is more awake than I am," mumbled Space, scratching his back and lighting another cigarette. "Where the hell are we going to find some decent grub in this town?" asked dP Phun. "There isn't a Goody's within a hundred miles!" "We're roughing it, remember?" said Nomad. "I think we're in luck, though; t hat looks like an open diner across the street." "Great. I hate waking up without my normal dose of caffeine almost as much a s I hate morning." Space headed off across the street, checking for cops befor e jaywalking against the light. He stood on the other side, watching Phun and Nomad dodge the traffic. Over breakfast, they discussed their plans. There wasn't much to go on; just "Some secluded cabin; no phone, no cable TV...." and a mention that Nibble had made to A.J. about a "Natural swimming pool" in the backyard. That was no help ; there were literally hundreds of small lakes and ponds in the area. "I found this in the maps back at the FBI" said Nomad, dragging out a file ma rked "Suspected Hideouts". Inside was a list o about 50 locations around the c ountry, with only 15 listed in Colorado. "Think it will help?" "Can't tell. Maybe we can just try them all..." said Phun. "That's about all we CAN do. Let's just hope that the FBI is better than we ever gave them credit for" said Space, yawning and downing another swig of coff ee. "Well, let's get going; there's only a few more hours of daylight left, an d we'll need supplies in this weather." "I should have known that you'd sleep 'til 2pm, you bum." chided Phun. "Next time, I set the alarm!" Subject:Paranoia May Destroy Ya Number:107 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:10/05/85 The engine of the Pantera sang in a four-part harmony with itself as the sleek machine roared out of Pueblo into the mountains. The road was wet with melted snow, but Synth had programmed two of the external speakers of the car to vibrate the vehicle's body panels at a high frequency. Any water that had the misfortune to come in contact with the car was vaporized instantly, and the car stayed dry, allowing the moonlight to glow eerily off the black pearl paint job. Synth and Redd were relaxing and listening to the Fairlight play softly to itself. The weekend had been a general success -- Colorado girls enjoyed impressive vehicular machinery, and cold winter nights were quite conducive to cuddling. They had barely been outside the city limits for two minutes when Synth noticed something strange. "Shit, Redd, did you see that?" he queried. Redd pulled back from the small readout screen. "No, I've been playing Indiana Jones. What did you see?" "It was a guy on the side of the road. Redd, he was on a skateboard . . ." "Rip? Shit! Do you think it was him?" "Redd, it's fifteen degrees out there. Who else would be skateboarding at this time of night in below-freezing temperatures?" "Well, shit. Do you think he could tell who we were?" "I have the external volume on full. There are not an awful lot of cars on the road with ETSI systems." "Hmm. Well, there's no way he can catch up to us, and we're 170 miles from the cabins. He won't get into town for at least half an hour. We can probably be in Salida before he can tell his FBI buddies about us, and by then there's n no way they could find us . . . but Nibble will want to know about this now." Redd linked the Fairlight to the CB, set the scramble key, and started the transmission . . . Subject:That's the Way You Do It... Number:108 From:Rip Thrashboy Skuzzbopper Date:10/08/85 "Where to comrades?" asked Nomad. "Well, they could be anywhere. I heard Rip say something about mountains, be there are alot of those in this state. We could find out who rents cabins in this area, and track down a name. Nibble would use something colorful and creative, se we should have no trouble decerning who he is." saids Space. "Tah, but one thing, if this place is full of mountains, then it is full of mountain cabins." sighed Phun. "Have any better idea, Phun?" asked Nomad as he ate the last bit of his Burger. "Yah, actually, yes, we should follow her!" Space and Nomad spun around in time to see a girl that looked remarkably like A.J. disappear into a taxi. It was real cold. He was wearing six layers of clothing, and it was still cold. The fact that he had almost been blown over by...by..."Hay," he thought, "I have seen that car before, or is my mind flipping." He stopped and looked b ack, the red lights of the passing car were disappearing rapidly... Subject:Back At The Cabin Number:109 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:10/08/85 " . . . Are you SURE it was Rip?" shouted Nibble into the mike that he held gingerly in his wet left hand. He and A.J. (who was occupying his right hand quite capably) had been in the tub when the radio had started to crackle to life. "Positive," replied Redd, sounding quite distant, which he was. "He was on a skateboard. And there's no way he could have missed us, either. What should be do?" "Mumble frotz," muttered the Count to himself. "I can't think of anything at the moment. Just get your asses over here. And take the back way." "The back way??" cut in Synth. "But what about my car?" "Leave it at the garage in Gunnison. Anderson will take care of it. Borrow his Jeep and GET UP HERE! You two are about as subtle as a brick in the face when you're in that car and you know it." "Hmm. Yeah," agreed Synth, "okay. See you in about two hours, then. Synth out." "Nibble out." "So," cut in A.J., "they're close and getting closer." "Apparently. It's a big state, though. This place can't be traced to me or you or anyone else, and I'M certainly not saying anything to anyone. How about you?" "Mmmm. I get your point." "We still have a couple hours left before they get here . . . " " . . . I can read your mind." ----- Meanwhile, about 400 miles south of the cabin, the tiny gears inside the tiny minds of Dave Staehlin and his tiny buddy Adam Hudson were trying to spin, revealing the need for a tiny can of WD-40 . . . Subject:Enter Super-Dave. Number:110 From:MIDI AMIN Date:10/08/85 Deciding that what they needed to get the wheels turning was a good, greasy pork chop, Adam and Dave decided that that's what they would do. They stopped at as good-sounding a place as any: Mama's Kitchen. They consumed their lunches rather quickly and started talking. "So what should we look for, Dave?" "All we have so far is what their cars look like." "Hold it, Dave. Was one of those cars a black Pantera?" "Yea," said Dave as he turned to look in the direction of Adam's gaze. "What do you s... Adam, my little eagle-eyed sidekick, I think we have found one of them!" In getting out the door, they just about knocked over a waiter with a full four-person meal over his head. They drove down the street on the twin mopeds to the MacDonald's where they saw the Pantera. Seeing no one in it, they decided to get in to see what evidence they could find. Taking a crowbar to the door, they got in... to a big mess of trouble. A very large man that looked very unlike Synth walked outside. "What the bloody hell do you think you are doing to my CAR?!?!?!?" "Collecting evidence for..." Dave looked at the man that confronted him and said the only dirty word he had ever said in his life. "Oh, shit." and almost did. Dave and Adam took off on the mopeds leaving the crowbar behind which the man seized and threw at Adam's bike, which he hit right in the front tire. Adam flipped over the bike and into Dave. They both got up and took off on Dave's. The man would have had no problem catching them, but he was too busy whimpering over what had been done to his "beautiful, lovely, brand new, not even paid for car." Subject:sitting back.... Number:111 From:double 'd' Date:10/08/85 Sitting back in his hidden mountain hide-a-way in Colorado unaware of the FBI trying to locate Phreakers, Double 'D' punches in another number into his computer. He was a master phreaker and was trying to Distribute his latest crack, Fanatavisiom, to his friends in New York. Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep,.........Conection made............... Yes, he made a connection to one of his Favorite bbs's/ae's. He started to catalog the drives ignoring the file "Phreakers READ (FBI!!)". Finally he found a volume that was empty. He typed in the name and started Uploading the program. "Boy!", Boy he said to himself..."I think that I will go for a walk." So out the door he went into the woods. Not five minutes after he left his telephone scanner went off signaling that he was being traced. Futhermore, the software crashed before it auto- matically shut down the entire system....... ----------- Back at FBI headquarters an agent was completing the trace: Ten... nine... eight... ....... one... Subject:.... Number:112 From:Double 'D' Date:10/08/85 "Successful Trace!!", yelled the agent contacting the leader of his group. Well what are we going to do??...Well I think that we will call our agents in Colorado and have them get on it. "Well...",replied the agent. "Sounds mighty good!!!" We this could be a major break-thru. We have a lead on Double 'D' the Master Phreaker, if we catch him we might wipe out Phreaking!!! The Leader said sitting down. Quickly he rasied his head and said, "But if he......... Subject:A View To A Kill Number:113 From:Rip Thrashboy Skuzzbopper Date:10/10/85 "This thing handles nothing like MY car!" screamed Synth. "Do want me to drive?" replied Redd, who was holding on for dear life ad Synth tried deperatly to stear round the many trees that Nibble called "The Back Way". They had taken to the heavy terrain right after crossing the continental divide. Synth was a very rehersed driver, but the path that he was trying to follow wasn't very good, as he was pointing out to Redd. "Are you sure this is right?" "Yah, Nibs said follow USGS line 3344-b, that is the line we are currenlty traverseing." returned Redd very smartly. "Oh, shut up." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The doorbell rang. A fare-haired individual got up from the sofa and walked over to the door. He glanced out the window and saw a a black Lambourgini siting on his front lawn. Then somebody blow the front door of it's hinges. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "What the hell were you thinking?" "Well, she did look like A.J." "Not even, Why the Hell did I believe you!" "I am sorry" 'Sorry doesn't help us out much, The Pinto Is getting low on gas, and we're stuck out here in the fucking mountains with a goddamn storm coming in, just great..." Subject:EXPLOITES Number:114 From:Rip Thrashboy Skuzzbopper Date:10/14/85 Rip was thinking about what he had to do the next day before he fell into the world of dreams. Anderson had been very helpful and his information very detailed about where the old crew was. He would just sleep of the road for a few hours before his big day. "It was you wasn't it" said Rip. "Maybe," replied the stout dark-haired individual who went by the name Purcell,"maybe it was me, but you cannot prove anything." Rip thought about what he knew. He remembered when he join the FBI in hopes of destroying it, and then deciding to destroy his freinds, and then when everything in his life was shattered. Shattered into nothingness. When he and the other boys joined up, they were sent off to different areas. He was inducted into the internal security unit. He did not here from the others until they left the bureau. Well, they should make their own choises now. His first assignment was to find the leak in F section, the section in charge of survaillence of visting emarssaries. Basically to spy on spies. He spent long hours watching with his co-operative. Her name was Lisa, and he fell into the trap of love after two weeks. They were on the assignment for four and a half weeks, and almost have of that alone together, ans sometimes they watched a Russian named Serkov. Serkov was suspected as a contac for double-agents withen the tiers of government. They had pictures of somewho withen their very own unit talking with this man Serkov. The had evidence. The day before they were to report, someone shot and raped Lisa on her way home from Rip's apartment. He had insisted that she stay the night, but she siad that she wanted to wait until after the mission. He almost killed himself the very next day. ----Continued---- Subject:EXPLOITES continued Number:115 From:Rip Thrashboy Skuzzbopper Date:10/15/85 Killing Purcell wasn't easy. I had a scar that was deeper than the flesh . Purcell had the intiative and used it to slice my left cheek and blind my left eye. The confrontation had taken place at his place, and I was able to check myself into the Unit substation for medical attention. I knew that no-one would realize that Purcell was even missing for at least a week. My plan continued perfectly, I checked out the necessary equipment for P-section and went to the computers to get information about some old friends... Rip's eyes opened abruptly when the four f-19's flew overhead. The country was still at war so that was not unusual. He started the car and moved out onto the highway in the Purcell's Lambourgini... Subject:Plot twist 101-A. Number:116 From:Redd Slaver Date:10/21/85 Nibble sat at the candle-lit desk, A.J. beside him. Redd and Synth stood, somber, across from him. "This is not good," Nibble was saying, "Not good at all." Synth nodded. "We can almost be certain he knows where we are. And you know Rip, he won't stop until he's got us." "Yeah," added Redd. "To say nothing about the other three..." A.J. spread her hands helplessly. "I just can't believe they'd all turn against us like that." "It seems a little incredible to me too," said Nibble. "But the cards are down, and the facts are in, and it doesn't look good." Just then, Nibble's terminal across the room began beeping for attention. He plodded over to it, and sat down. When he saw what was on the screen he brightened visibly. "Hey, guys!" he called. "Guess who's here?" Redd, A.J., and Synth walked over to see. "Wow," said Synth. "It's Double 'D' himself!" At the other end of the phone line, Master Phreaker Double 'D' smiled at his modem's "CONNECTION ESTABLISHED" and watched Nibble's excited (and poorly spelled in haste) typing spread across his screen. Twenty minutes of computer talk later, Nibble looked back up to the group. "Folks, we may just have a chance." Subject:No Shiite! Number:117 From:Redd Slaver Date:10/21/85 A week later, Redd and Synth found themselves in Tokyo. Nibble and A.J., together, had moved nearly to the other end of the world, in Paris, France. Together they had one tiny hope ... to fend off the FBI from their tracks, and, if necessary, fend off their friends personally. Double 'D' had generousl generously supplied the names of contacts for the groups to find, people that knew people that knew people high up in the FBI. Maybe it would work. Redd and Synth strolled through a sea of Japanese, past the Ginza, and into the inner city. "Damn it, Redd," Synth was saying, "I really wanted the Pantera to use here." "Just wait," said Redd, "Nibble assured me that this first gentleman would have a vehicle ready that would be more than adequate for our uses..." "I wonder what Nibble's doing right now?" asked Synth. But he cut the thought short when he saw that they had arrived at their first destination: The small business offices of a Mr. Hajime Watanabe. They trudged in. Subject:Meanwhile back in Europe Number:118 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:10/22/85 " . . . two for Lancaster Gate, please." "Certainly, sir." Nibble and A.J. took the two yellow tickets and walked off towards the stairs downwards. "Well, I must admit," said A.J. as they walked downwards, "I like this better than I would have liked Paris. At least in England we don't have to know a foreign language." "Plus now even if Rip gets his hands on Dee, Dee won't be able to tell him anything -- at least not anything useful. Besides, I've been here. It's a nice country. I think we'll stay for a while, if you don't have any objection to that idea." "None! Even if it means staying in a hostel until we can find a place somewhere . . . hell, we've got enough money to buy a castle if we want." "Lessee, we want . . . Metro . . . Circle . . . ah! Central. This way, m'lady. If I remember my London Underground, Lancaster Gate is nine stops down. Unless, of course, you want to hit Madame Tussaud's first." "Sounds like fun. And here's our train . . . " Nibble and A.J. boarded the car that stopped right in front of them. "Do you think Redd and Synth made it to Tokyo okay?" asked A.J. as she took a seat. "Can't see why not. I can only hope that one of them can speak Japanese... Subject:Tokyo e ikimasu! Number:119 From:Redd Slaver Date:10/23/85 Redd and Synth opened the door to Mr. Watanabe's shop and casually walked in. After a few moments, Mr. W himself appeared. He was a short, aging Japanese man, and he greeted them with a deep bow from the waist. Synth spoke: "Uh, Mr. Watanabe? Sir? We came about the car . . ." Mr. Watanabe looked back at Synth and uttered a stream of pure nonsens Synth was a taken a little aback. "Huh? Me Synth, Him Redd, We Need Car," he said, very slowly. Redd stepped in. "Hajimemashite Watanabe-san. Synth-san wa Nihon'go ga joozu ja arimasen." (*Hello, Mr. Watanabe. Synth doesn't speak very good Japanese.*) Mr. Watanabe nodded, understanding. "Hajimemashite Redd-san. Hajimemashite Synth-san." He paused, then said in perfect English, "I have been expecting yo you. Please follow me." A little surprised, Redd and Synth followed Watanabe into a back room of the store. It was actually more of a small warehouse, but it wasn't the room itself. Sitting in the exact center of the room was an incredible car. Synth exhaled a low whistle of admiration. "Woww....." Redd was speechless. Mr. Watanabe was grinning from ear to ear. "Well, Synth," said Redd at last, "Why don't you check it out?" Subject:A breif look into the life of Dave Stahlin and sidekick. Number:120 From:WHIPSNAP RAP Date:10/25/85 Dave sat, hunched over the steringwheel of a clunkish sounding car. "Golly Dave, this was a great idea to get a car," Adam said, "and the best part is that those hacker guys won't notice us!" "Yup, whose gonna notice a Chicken-Licken delivery car?" The car continued down the road until Adam spoted somthing... "Look Dave, a strange looking negro in a white suit surrounded by girls! Is he real popular or somthing?" "Huh? Oh him, for heavens sake! That's a pimp!" "What's that? A guy with bad acne?" "Er.. no, it is, if my memory serves me right, a man who mannages prostitutes." "Mabey he saw them?" "It's worth a try..." The car pulled up to the curve. Adam hoped out and skiped up to the pimp. H He stuck out his hand to be shaken. The pimp looked down at Adam's gruby little slimy hand and looked away with disgust. "Aren't you going to shake my hand, sir?" "Fuck yo mama! Touch me with that crap covered slime stump I knock you face off!" the pimp exclamed in thick harlem accent. Adam back up hesitently but the warm look of his only freind in the world reassured him. "Have you seen a bunch of tough lookin' guys in a black pantera?" "Mabey.." the pimp said as he put out his hand. Adam, confused, looked back to the car. "Give him some money!" David yelled in a wispered tone. Adam happily turned around and dug into his pocket. He then laid a quarter in the pimp's hand. Subject:Cont. from last message. Number:121 From:WHIPSNAP RAP Date:10/25/85 The pimp looked down as his hand and then his face broke out into a flared anger. "What the fuck are you? Mr. cheapo himself?! Listen honky asshole, take this quater and call a hospital! You damn well need it!" The pimp then belted a hook across Adams nose. A large crack confirmed the break of the nose. Adam fell back into the Chicken-Licken car, blood spewing from his face. The comical chicken on the side of the door now took on an evil look as the blo od ran across it's face. Dave open the door and yanked Adam in as Adam began a to fall into a trama tic cry. The car raced down the road leaving only a small pool of blood in it's pla ce The pimp walked over to the phonebooth and dailed a long number. "Nibbs? They're way off track. yeah, later." Subject:francais Number:122 From:phun Date:10/26/85 Well phun was bored. Ever since the break up of the group, Phun wanted more action like the times be ore. Joining up with the FBI was a teriible mistake. He decided to take a vacation to France. He had always wanted to go there and esides he had heard that the others had gone overseas so maybe he could find so me information on them. Nomad, and Space werent too thrilled telling him that he was fucked in the head what the hell, you only live once. He left new york at8:00 am and arrived in Paris in the afternoon. Subject:THEY'RE HERE! Number:123 From:WHIPSNAP RAP Date:10/27/85 Phun walked down the hall to his hotel room. The drizzle outside had a gloomy affect upon his attidude. He dug down into his pocket searching for his key, afterwhich he inserted it into the doorand opened it. He was just about to walk into his room when he stoped. His eyebrows came down and he tilted his head trying to hear the sound he had just heard. Yes, he knew that sound and slowely walked down the hall to home in on it. "Hehehe, I found you!" Phun mumbled under his breath as he stuck his ear to the door of which the sound emited. Phun reached into his jacket and removed a .357 magnum. He placed his hand the doornob and slowely turned. He then burst into the room raising his gun at what he saw before him. It was a computer. On the screen flashed "Wrong access code". He wached as the computer automaticly tried more and more. "What is this," he wondered,"Wait, I remember that, thats an old code breake r the Count and I made a long time ago!" Prince Phun thought back to the times when he and the Count used to sit around a monochrome screen breaking accesses across the country. The FBI had screwed all that though, and now, he must catch the Count and the whole rest of his freinds. This was a very doleful thought mixed with the old freindship and he felt he couldn't do it. But then he remembered the leter, the president had sent all the reformed hackers, how it said it was his duty to the united states to bring them in. This brought his head up and he walked over to the phone. He dug a piece of paper out of his pocket and dialed the number on it. "Missure?" "A fish doesn't fly" "Oh, yeah phun, whats up?" Subject:CONT. FROM LAST MESSAGE Number:124 From:WHIPSNAP RAP Date:10/27/85 "I've found them." "Who?" "The Count, and A.J. and anyone else who might be staying here." "Need back up?" "Yeah, say four or five." "I can handle that. You want me to notify headquarters?" "Yeah." "Okay, just stay there and wai..." Phun droped the fone at the sound of the door opening. He spun on his heel to see Count Nibble standing there with a .44 magnum in his hand. Behind him was A.J. Phun thought "His gun's lowered and so is mine. Equal chance I'd say, unless A.J.'s packin'." They both sat there staring at eachother thinking back to old freindship and present hatred.... Subject:Well shit! Number:125 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:10/27/85 "Speak of the devil, and who shows up. We were just talking about how we had you running around in circles, Phun, I guess you're a little smarter than we gave you credit for," said A.J. as she slowly closed the door to the hotel room. "Smarter, my ass," Nibble broke in, "this guy's about as subtle as a brick in the face. If we hadn't seen him wandering around the Eiffel Tower with that .357 in his back pocket, he probably would have been arrested. Shoulda left it that way instead of paying that kid to knock it out of his pants." Phun thought about that for a minute and frowned. He had heard the gun hit the ground, and had considered himself extremely lucky noone else had noticed. From there he kept it in his jacket. "What are you doing here, Phun?" asked A.J. "France is way out of your jurisdiction. If you arrest us, it's kidnapping." Phun grinned. "I'm on orders from the President to bring you in." Nibble started to laugh. "What's do damned funny?" "Oh, I LOVE it . . . the PRESIDENT . . . after US . . . that's great, Phun, just great. Remember in Texas? Those missiles?" " . . . Yeah . . . " "That was DAVE! And if Dave can fool a SAC commander with his Reagan impersonation, he can certainly forge the old fool's signature. You've been DUPED, son! What a dweeb you are! A.J., go out and attach this to the door." Nibble handed A.J. a small packet. Phun jumped to his feet and aimed the .357 at A.J.'s head. "FREEZE!" Now A.J. started to laugh. "What's so damned funny NOW?" "Phun, when we had that kid get your gun, we had him unload it, too. It's as clean as a whistle. We've been following you for two hours, and you haven't checked it once. There isn't a bullet within ten feet of that thing." She stepped into the hall and closed the door . . . Subject:Well shit again! Number:126 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:10/27/85 Phun sank back down onto the bed and looked Nibble over. That was funny, he thought to himself, I've never seen Nibble in a tie before. And A.J. was dressed to kill too. "Nibble, what's the deal? You're dressed pretty fancy for someone who lives in a cruddy hotel room like this." "Well, we WERE going out for dinner and a show until A.J. spotted you wandering around with your rod haning out. Besides, what makes you think we live here? We've never even been on this side of town before." "But this computer . . . running our old program . . ." "What? Hey, so it is . . . neat! Phun, that doesn't mean anything . . . every fucking hacker in the U.S. has a copy of that program, it's just a coincedence that the guy who lives here does too. I haven't touched a micro since we left the States. We've been too busy . . ." "So I suppose now you're going to blow me up or something." "Nope. We're just going to leave you here for a while while we make our escape, so to speak." The door rattled around a bit, and A.J. stepped in, holding a screwdriver. "All secure?" "All secure. You ready to go?" "Yeah. Okay, Phun. We're leaving now. You're welcome to try and follow us if you like, but it won't do you much good. Do everyone a favor and cool it with this bullshit of chasing us around, huh?" Phun frowned and leaned back on the bed as Nibble put his gun away. "Later, huh?" "Later . . ." muttered Phun. As A.J. shut the door to the hotel room, Nibble pulled out a lock, and fastened the door shut with the hasp that A.J. had screwed onto it. "Lazlo, what now?" she asked. "Back to the hotel, then back to London, and FAST. I wish we could be here to see what happens when his backup shows up and finds him locked up in there, but . . . " As the pair walked back to their hotel, they heard sirens in the distance. Subject:outsmart Number:127 From:phun Date:10/27/85 Phun couldnt actually beleive that nibs and A.J. had forgotten about the window . The sirens sounded in the distance as he unlocked the window and hopped onto the fire escape. As he was running down the stairs he couldnt beleive that he ad turned against his freinds like that. "How cand I get back on their side" he wondered. "Or do I"? HE ran around the corner just in time to see nibs walking down an alley. He rounded the corner when he was grabbed by the shirt. hat the fuck ARE you trying to do phun" Nibs yelled. "Screw it Count, Its over. Why are we battling each other like this?" "Your the one thats battling us dammit" The F.B.I. pulled up to the hotel across the street and ran into the hotel. A ew people were still waiting outside. "Well count what do you want to do?" "Dammit Phun I cant BELEIVE you!! We have to go. You can come to if you want ut as soon as we get to the airport YOU are leaving O.K.?" "Yea sure" Phun said as he smiled inwardly. Phun, count, And A.J. ran down the alley. Subject:'It was dark all around-There was frost on the ground-When the tigers Number:128 From:broke free..."-Rip Skuzzbopper Date:10/27/85 Nibs made for the limo, with A.J. holding his hand. The door closed as phun Jumped into the drivers seat. "What are you doing?" asked Nibble. "I'll be your driver, we'll get by the federalies." Phun drove the long black car smoothly. They passed right underneath the incompitant agents' noses. Phun spun the wheel and they headed for the airport. On the airplane back to the U.K., Phun told Nibble all about the adventures of the tactless group since the breakup. "Space, Nomad and I looked for you on our vaction, but we just missed you. Rip apparently got transfered out to the CIA from what I heard. Space is still working with nomad on catching Redd and Synth. I think they wen to Japan, They heard the Redd was designing stuff for a big company over there. Two other old freinds have been keeping the faith in the Hacker world. Leach and Double Dee have been tearing up TRW for anout a month now." "Well," said Nibble,"If you can stay out of they way of A.J. and my with this new scam, you can stay with us in England..." Subject:Dee and Leach. . . . . . . Number:129 From:I really dont know right now----maybe later Date:10/28/85 Well Dee knowing that he had been traced was packing up all his computer equiptment into his Bell 103 Helicopter (highly modified and hi-tech for being so old).He is just finishing. He turns to leach. "Hey Leach!!" "What Dee" "are you ready to get that bike fired up?" "yea lets make sure that our communications are working before we leave" "okay, 1,2,3,4,5, you are a dick!!" "Fuck you says leach to Dee" "must work Dee responds chuckling" The two masters take off heading north to Canada, Where they are going to meet in Two weeks. Each montering each other with their complex equiptment. Off to Their second secret hide-a-way then off to Antaritca, where they will set up the new command post. "Good luck dee!!" "No good luck to you you are going to need it more." "Well to you too" "bye take care!!" "you too!! be careful responds Dee" off into the early morning sun.... . . . Subject:Meanwhile back at the Ginza -- Take II Number:130 From:Redd Slaver Date:10/28/85 Back in Japan, Redd and Synth were laying relatively low. Mr. Watanabe had provided them with cover jobs until Midi Amin was able to join them. Then the fun could REALLY start. So for the past two weeks, Redd and Synth had been employees of Yamaha, Inc. Not to say they didn't really work, though. In the first week, Redd designed an extremely sensitive poly-axial 12" speaker that could reproduce true tones down to 35 Hz, and with an upper limit that was simply unbelievable. It was an overnight hit with bass players worldwide. Never again would they need to lug huge twin-15" cabinets around. Add to this the speaker's sensitivity of 200 dB at 1 watt, 1 meter, uniformly over the entire sonic spectrum, and several professional audio groups leapt up and took notice. Synth, meanwhile, completed the evolution of the MIDI ][ interface standard, which allowed for direct digitalization of analog signals. Now musicians could control synthesizers from their Fender Stratocasters without investing in any expensive A/D conversion units. Synth also completed the MIDI biolink, which enabled a user to select or deselect which synthesizers he wished controlled, in whatever pattern, merely by concentrating hard. All in all, it had been a good week. But the two musicians' success was bringing them a notoriety they could not afford. "Damn it, Redd," Synth said one day, "Space and Nomad are going to be onto us any day now." Redd nodded. "We'll give Midi just three more days to show up. Then we go, with or without him. But he does get three days." Synth exhaled. "OK. I sure hope you know what you're doing." Redd grinned. "Me too." Subject:continuing saga (what else?) Number:131 From:leach Date:10/29/85 Double 'D' is now cruising at an altitude of about 6000 feet (rather low for covert activities) and wraps a blanket around his legs. "It's going to be a long trip. Lots of gas, spare tanks...I'm set." He glances down at the tracer to see Leach's progress. Both are heading north at warp speed in comparison to the rest of the traffic...~130 MPH. Leach is falling behind, now attempting to negotiate the colder air and turns. "Scout ahead.." says Leach, and Dee blasts his copter just past the horizon. 3 hours pass when a crackling comes over the security scrambled comlink. "Trouble, Leach." "S'up?" "You know los Federales?" "Nooo, of course not. Never heard of them." "Don't be an asshole." "Okay, what about them" "There aren't any! Come on home. I'll have a pot of coffee and the computers set up by the time you get here. Keep a lookout for some nice-looking chicks." "In this weather you jerk? I'm freezing my ha--what the fuck ?!" Dee hears a shot fired over his com, then a brief exchange followed by a frantic revving of a motocycle. Dee spins the chopper around just 30 minutes from the hideout in canada and drops 5300 feet. As he's trying to re- establish communications with the static he can only get, he sees a red streak go under his copter so fast he can only guess leach was still on it. He hears static, then more static, then click! "Test...Ahh, that's it. I had a power failure from a lucky shot. Keep an eye out for a blue dodge dart. It has a huge paint stain on it now for easy targeting." "Gotcha, leach," replies Dee, "You awright?" "Minor equipment failure, pain in the side from a .38 hitting my vest. Don't have any idea who it could be, either. Just saw the rod stick out the window and I gunned it. Dropped them a few rounds and then a paint grenade--" Leach is cut short. Dee informs him, "I see 'em. Bombs away...!" An incredible flash of light illuminates Leach's back in the twilight. "Sounds like you couldn't have missed! What the hell did you put in those bombshells?! Subject:Meanwhile.. Back in Japan Number:132 From:MIDI AMIN Date:10/29/85 Synth decided that he wanted to shop the Ginza again. Redd decided to go along for the heck of it. He thought this would be a good time to pick up some cheap parts without getting the Yamaha guys pissed. They made their way to the train station. "Do you think they'll find out about us from what we've done?" "I don't think so, Synth. I know Nomad doesn't follow the music world too much." "I hope not. That scared me when I realized what we did." "Don't worry about it." Folowing the signs that led to the Shinkansen, they found the platform and found a pair of yellow lines to stand between. When the door opened, all they could notice was the guy with the long hair standing in the doorway. "Looking for someone?" he said. Subject:Meeting Midi Number:133 From:Redd Date:10/29/85 Redd and Synth did double takes. "Midi!" said Redd. "We were just talking about you!" "Deja vu", muttered Synth. "Well, it's good to see you, too, guys," said Midi. "Japan's cool, eh?" The trio walked to a nearby coffee shop, ordered some espresso, and sat. "So tell us," said Redd, "What have you been doing in Japan? I thought you'd contact us before you arrived." "Well, I had a little unfinished business to take care of first," said Midi. He produced a small, black-and-white photograph. "Recognize him?" "Yes," said Synth. "Tanaka Yotsumo, great-uncle to Dave Staehlin." "Right. And the person with him?" "His grandson. Baruma Yotsumo. So?" "Have you heard of Baruma Yotsumo, Synth?" asked Midi. "You should have. He is ... er, WAS very popular." "That's right!" exclaimed Redd in sudden comprehension. "The guitarist!" "The same." confirmed Midi. "Baruma Yotsumo's music was well-loved in Japan up until last year, when he retired from the professional music scene, ostensibly for health reasons. Well, in a little research I did last year, I found out something very interesting about Mr. Yotsumo." Redd and Synth leaned forward, listening intently. Subject:A Guitarist's Destiny Number:134 From:Redd Date:10/29/85 "You see," continued Midi, "Yotsumo had been touring around the world. He was quickly enlisted by the KGB to do spying missions in countries he played, not excluding the U.S. He'd been up to that for some time when I caught onto him." "So?" asked Redd. "What happened?" "I'm getting to that. Yotsumo was famous for using only Dean Markley strings. As it so happens I have a contact inside Dean Markley." "Well?" asked Synth. Midi leaned back and smiled. "I arranged for all of Yotsumo's custom- ordered sets to be stored near a substantial supply of uranium-238. By the time he got them, they were quite radioactive." Redd leaned back in disbelief. "So..." "Yes. Two days ago, Yotsumo died of radiation poisoning. The KGB is, in a nutshell, furious." Redd and Synth were dazed. "Wow," observed Synth. Midi leaned back and grinned. "The time's right, boys. The FBI thinks Yotsumo's still alive, and they'll almost certainly have agents over here checking out reports of his death. If we can lure enough KGB agents into this too, the fireworks should be most impressive." Evil grins began spreading across the faces of Redd and Synth, matching the one already worn so well by Midi Amin. Subject:Dark rooms....... Number:135 From:WHIPSNAP RAP Date:10/29/85 The man walked down the dark hallway. He opened a door and proceeded in in a millitary like walk. He approached a large desk and made a salute with lis arm across his chest. The man was clad in a black nylon uniform with an unusual X mark on his back. A pistol hung loosly in its holster at his side. Behing the desk sat a bald headed man with a large scar across his left side of his face. The man spoke " Order of the X, report one... " the man said in a monotone, " Group of hackers have broken up, retreating to various sides of earth. Such activities endanger current actions of the order, group must be stoped. Your reqest sir?" "Listen slug! Those mutha's touch my supply and they'll find themselves in deep crap. Put out five spies, one on this Count, and his hooker, one on this Red guy, and some Synth, also one out to find this Midi man, oh yeah, one to get this Phun, find out if he's cool or what, got that slug?" "Yes sir, taken down, sir" "If we find them pushin' my territory, BANG, some asses go flyin'! So far they've busted into my hotel room, and they've been bringin' FBI in everywhere! They wanna war, they got it!" "But sir, with the constant threat of the Federal Investigations who can afford the lead of a war?" "Shut your face slug!" The bald man yelled losing his temper. The bald man jumped up from his desk holding a sawed off twelve-gage. The Three blasts left the "Slug" lying on his back as blood and varoius organs litered the floor. "Damn! Its so hard to find help these days." Suddenly a small intercome cracked on "Mr. Cutrell?" "What?" "We have a visitor, The man says he's your inside the hacker group spy. He identifies himself as..........." Subject:"Big money goes around the world... Number:136 From:Rip Thrashboy Skuzzbopper, GRIND GRIND GRIND!!!! Date:10/30/85 Nomad studied the picture closely. He looked up at Space who was stuffing hi s face with chicken McNuggets. "Well,"said Nomad,"do you think there actually here?" "Yah, sure they are, but do they know we are looking for them is the real question." "Probably, I think we should contact some people, and see if we can hack into the Yamaha computer bank." "I suppose you're right, Lemme see that picture again." Nomad handed Space the black and white photo. It was a picture of somebody playing the guiter at a concert. "Well, I think we should first find Midi, I know that he is behi nd this caper, it has his name written all over it." Redd, Midi and Synth walked down the crowded street towards there favorite Fast food shack. Midi was whistleing some Pink Floyd song will Synth and Redd listen to some Jarre on the D-5. Suddenly, Midi stopped whistling. "Hey,"Midi shouted as he hit Synth's arm," Look over there!" Synth removed the Head-Phones,"What's your problem?" "Look, do you see what I see!" Redd also looked as Synth turned quite pale. He saw what Midi was pointing at. A black and white checker-board Lamourgini Countache 5000s was parked outside of Burger King. Subject:Burger King -- Tokyo Number:137 From:.synth. (finally) Date:10/31/85 "Rip's Lamb," breathed Redd. Midi looked at Synth. "What's it DOING here?" Instead of a reply, Synth's eyes widened. "Oh SHIT. Cover, guys!" As the three ducked into an electronics shop, Midi and Redd caught a glimpse of Nomad walking out of the Burger King. He sauntered up to the Countach, unlocked and opened the door on the passenger side, retrieved some papers, closed the door, and went back inside. Peeking out of the entrance to the shop, the three looked quite conspicuous. "Guys, we've got problems," muttered Synth. "They caught up to us a LOT faster than we thought they would." "Wait a sec," Midi said. "What is Rip's Countach doing in Tokyo? Do you think Rip's here with them?" "Couldn't tell you," said Synth. "But I suggest we find out." "Right," Midi said as he took in the sight of the Countach across the street. "Should we see who's in the Burger King with Nomad?" Synth frowned. "I'm almost afraid to." He thought a moment. "Midi, get back to the hotel and contact Mr. Watanabe. Redd and I are gonna check this out. Oh, and get the Lotus warmed up." An instant grin formed on Midi's face. "Right-o!" Seeing that the coast is clear, he darts out of the store and heads back down the street, trying to hail a taxi. Redd and Synth looked back at the Burger King, then at each other. Finally they exit the store and start cautiously down the street. Subject:The Heat Is On Number:138 From:.synth. Date:10/31/85 Approaching the corner, they cut right, crossed the street, and walked toward the Burger King from the side. Redd spoke. "Should we try to break into the Countach?" Synth smiled thoughtfully. "Only if we confirm that Rip ISN'T here." "We should've told Midi to get the Lotus and bring it back here...we'll probably need wheels." "Yeah, you're right -- you wanna try calling him?" "Okay. Why don't you scout for Space and/or Rip." "Thanks." Redd turned around to look for a payphone, leaving Synth to his fate. Slowly, Synth came up on the entrance to the Burger King. He peeked inside. It shouldn't be too hard to spot them, Synth thought, unless they got a Japanese make-over. His eyes scanned over the crowded restaurant. Nothing. He scanned again. Still nothing. Edging through the entrance, he strained to see the Guild members before they saw him. He found a booth in the corner and sat down. Midi burst inside the hotel room as the phone rang, leaving the keys in the door. He dove for the phone. "HELLO!" Redd, on the street corner, nearly jumped. "Jeez, Midi, glad to see you too!" "What's the deal, Redd?" "Get back here with the Lotus. We'll need it....Midi?" The hotel door slammed shut as the phone was left dangling off the hook. Subject:Car Wars Number:139 From:.:::::. Date:10/31/85 Synth leaned back in his booth. No sign of them. "I don't get it," he said to himself. "There's only one way out of this place!" Disgusted, he turned to look out the window. Nomad and Space were getting into the Countach. Synth jumped up. Nomad looked up from the driver's seat, and shit. "Jesus, Space, it's HIM!" They both ran for the entrance. Synth was running toward the back of the Burger King, fighting crowds, when he remembered what he just said. "One way out...SHIT!" He panicked. Quick, anythhing. ANYTHING. He saw the men's room door. Totally beyond rational thought, he slammed open the bath- room door, nearly killing a Japanese youth. Running down the length of the bathroom...why was it so large?...he skidded to a halt on the linoleum. Down at the end was a door. Synth dove for the door as Space and Nomad came bursting into the bathroom. "There he is!!" The back door swung open, and Synth was suddenly outside. Running back toward the street, he sensed Nomad and Space making their way through the door, catching up on him. Synth came up quickly on the street, when an orange Lotus Esprit Twin Turbo skidded to a stop in front of him, blocking his path. Synth, accepting the laws of physics, promptly rolled over the hood, Dukes-of-Hazzard style. A back door opened and he jumped in. Two rear Michelins burned rubber, sending up plumes of white smoke. Nomad, coming up fast, reached for the taillight as it took off. "Space, to the Countach!! FAST!!!" Subject:Car wars indeed! Number:140 From:Redd Slaver Date:10/31/85 Jim Ito was a Japanese-American sophomore at Kyoto University. And damned proud of it. Kyoto was great. He wouldn't want to be anywhere else. But these weekend trips up to Tokyon were even better. Especially when he had the stunning company of Manni Isshii, a ravishing freshman biochemistry coed. Jim drove confidently, one hand on the wheel of his car. He looked over at Manni and was rewarded with a dazzling smile. He smiled back and pushed a new tape into the car stereo. Sounds fill the car interior. Beautiful, thick, lush sounds, somehow like clouds and yet somehow like steel. Manni smiled appreciatively. "Wow. Who is this? I like it." Jim grinned back. "I thought you might. They're called Quantum Leap. A really great American band, my favorite. I've got all their albums and a ton of posters too. I've gone to see them live the last two times they toured Japan. Great shows. They stopped recording things about three years ago, though." "Oh." Manni said. Jim realized he had been rambling a bit. There was some sort of disturbance up ahead. Two cars were blazing up the road in the opposite direction, weaving through the oncoming traffic like madmen. Jim watched as they drew nearer. They burned past him . . . And he nearly fell over. For the driver of the first car was unmistakably Quantum Leap's bass player. And the person hanging on for dear life in the passenger seat was definitely the keyboardist. "Wow!" cried Jim as the two cars continued their mad chase, growing ever further away in his rear-view mirror. Subject:Flashback or Future? Number:141 From:Redd Slaver Date:10/31/85 "Damn it, Redd!" Midi shouted from the passenger seat, "You'll kill us all!" "Yeah!" agreed Synth. Redd was too busy concentrating weaving in and out of traffic to respond. He grunted. Synth was saying something about "...should have let me drive...". Midi was punctuating his statements with wild gesticulation. And the black-and-white checkered Countach grew ever-larger in the rear-view mirror. Suddenly Redd saw his chance. He wrenched the wheel over to the right, and slid all the way over to the far-right "group commuter" lane, virtually deserted at this time of day. He gunned the engine and felt a healthy acceleration take hold. Midi and Synth were calming a bit. The Lamborgini slid into the lane behind them. Redd saw a hand holding a pistol come out of the Countach window. It was time. "Bear in mind," Redd lectured, "that this vehicle was designed especially for espionage work. So all of your worrying is really unjustified . . .". He flipped one of the switches that lined the top of the dashboard. Subject:Flashback of Future? Part II Number:142 From:Redd Date:11/01/85 Back in the Countach, Nomad saw the Lotus move over. He grinned. "Space," he said, "Get a gun. We're about to have a clear shot." Space brought up a Combat Magnum and rolled down the window as Nomad pulled al the way over into the far right lane. "Ok, I'm set." "Fire at will," Nomad said. Or, started to say. For a blizzard of caltrops had dropped from the car ahead. "What the FUCK???" screamed Nomad as he slammed on the brakes. Space nearly went through the front window. Too late. The Lamborgini hit the first of the caltrops. Both front tires were punctured almost simultaneously. The Countach slid to a noisy stop amidst a cloud of rubber. After the skidding finally ended, Nomad and Space piled out. Space stared ahead as the Lotus disappeared into the distance. "Rip is going to kill us when he finds out what we did to his car." "Right, but he doesn't even know we have it." replied Nomad. Space started to chuckle a bit, "All this brings back some memories, doesn't it?" Subject:*Whew!* Number:143 From:.synth. Date:11/01/85 The orange Lotus whizzed down the street. Both Synth and Midi were looking out the back window for confirmation of the Lamborghini's demise. Redd continued to drive, staring straight ahead, with a smirk on his face. He didn't need to look back. Realizing their victory, Midi started yelling ecstatically in a heavy French accent. "You don't frighten us, English pig-dog! Go and boil your bottoms, sons of a silly person. I fart in your general direction--" Synth, turned around and slumped comfortably in the back seat. "Jeezus...." "--your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!! Bppbpbpppt! BPPPPPHPHPPPT!!" Redd looked through his rear-view mirror at Synth. "A most impressive display, don't you think?" Synth, eyes closed, nodded wearily. The Esprit downshifted to 35, made a quick right into an alleyway, and skidded to a halt. Midi and Redd piled out while Synth lay casually dead in the back seat. No one noticed the black Honda Accord Limo that sided past in the street behind them. Redd and Midi leaned up against the car. "I think it's a good idea to monitor them while they're still immobilized back there," Midi said. Redd shook his head. "No, better not. We still don't know who's with them. I'd bet that they'd have friends here, and who knows, maybe Rip is somewhere about." Midi grinned. "If he IS, Nomad's in a shitload of trouble." Redd chuckled briefly, but then noticed something over Midi's shoulder. A black limousine was down at the far end of the alley, blocking the exit... Subject:Yotsumo Incorporated Number:144 From:.synth. Date:11/01/85 Redd's smile disappeared. He continued to stare over Midi's shoulder. "Look behind you," he said. Midi turned around. Down at the end, men in black suits with automatic weapons emerged from the limo. Midi snapped his head around to look back the way they came. That coast was clear. "Yotsumo's men?" he said to Redd. "I don't want to find out," Redd said, matter-of-factly. "Get in the car." Midi raced for the other side of the car while Redd stepped in the driver's side, slamming the door. Synth's eyes popped open. "What's goin' on, guys?" A barrage of gunfire bounced off the windshield violently. "That answer your question?" Redd said. "Thank God for bulletproof windows." His hand reached for a switch labelled "BOTTLE ROCKET SYSTEM". Outside, the grille underneath the retractable headlights slid back, revealing 25 neatly lined-up bottle rockets. Redd's thumb punched the LAUNCH button. 25 mini projectiles WHOOOOOOSHed away from the Lotus in a cloud of gray smoke, and furiously sped toward their target. Hit-men dove for cover as rockets hit them in their backs and sides. One rocket sailed into the Honda limo. Agonized screams emanated from within as it bounced about dangerously, and then exploded with an ear-splitting CRACK! The Lotus peeled out as it backed into the street. Redd saw a second limo coming down the street. Jamming it into gear, he yanked the wheel over as the car fishtailed through a U-turn. Turbos kicking in, they flew down the street, passing the limo. The limo spun around clumsily and followed suit... Subject:"Do you wanna party - It's party Time!" Number:145 From:The Ripper Date:11/02/85 Redd put down the pedal quickly and the Lotus roared down the street. The front windsheild was pretty bad off, the bullets bounced but at the cost of visibility. The limo was falling behind, but it would soon catch up. "Dammit, this is not good," shouted Midi," why the hell are they after us?" Synth fumbled around until he produced a key to the glove-compartment. The streets were not as crowded as usual, and Redd took advantage with wild turns and sudden decellerations. The black limo was still a good time behind them and Redd tried hard to put alot of distance out. Synth bumped into the stereo and it turned on while he handed something to Midi. "Here," he said," take this key and open the crate in the back." Midi took the brass key and did as he was told. The tunes of Jan Hammer filled the cabin. "Jee-wiz Synth, were you get the hardware!" exclaimed Midi. He brought up a Armburst and checked it over. "Nevermind now, just hand it to me." Redd took another sharp one. Just as he straightend the car, another black limo pulled out beside them from the curb. "Dammit, they want us bad!" "Well," said synth as he flicked the 'ARM' switch on the anti-tank weapon,"they're gonna get more than what they paid for at the door this time!" He opened the sun-roof and steadied himself. One of the windows opened on the new limo and a the short barrel of an UZI protruded out. Redd made a hard left and Synth nearly lost his balance. The Limo pressed and shots riddled off the buildings to the right of the Lotus. Synth took aim at the corner and waited afor the car to make its turn. The hood rounded the corner and Synth fired... Subject:Tokyo Vice Number:146 From:MIDI AMIN Date:11/03/85 ... and the missle lodged itself into the radiator of the limo. The resulting explosion sent engine parts flying in a rather neat circle and gauges into the driver's face. "Bingo!" said MIDI, who was looking through the back window. "Good shot!" "We're not through yet," siad Synth as he watched the second limo round the corner. "Give me another round!" "Someone forgot to pack their own lunch, eh? Mommy only sent one shot!" "Redd, we're in trouble. No more ammo." "No problem," Redd responded as he rounded a corner and released the ever- popular oil slick. Synth and MIDI watched out the back window as the limo turne d the corner and slammed into the opposite building. "Let's go home." Subject:Cutrell's comin' to town! Number:147 From:WHIPSNAP RAP Date:11/03/85 The now trashed limo sat hunched on the side of the road. The back door opened and a large man, Cutrell, mgot out. "Those damn' sons of a bitches! Trashin' the whole opperation up! Slime!" "Yes, sir?" answered a man dressed in a red suit. "Yeah, tell Yotsumo that I'm gettin' rid of these guys with a special assasin." "Should I tell him the name of the assasin?" "Go ahead, even if he knows, he won't beable to find him. The name's Yon Cho, a master of the ancient arts," a large smirk snerred into his face, " A Ninja!" "Ninja?" "You got it, slime! He'll take care of those lousy creeps!!" "Yes sir, I'll also inform him of his car wreckage." Cutrell removed a very large revolver from his jacket. He aimed it at "Slime" and said"You breath one word bout' these cars ad you won't breath again! GET THEM FIXED!!" "Er.. Yes, sir." "Good! Good!" Cutrell walked over to a fonebooth and dailed "Won chi, ycaro?" "Don't give me that oriental crap! This is Cutrell!" "Oh, yes?" "I got a job for you...... Subject:Realism -- a token cameo Number:148 From:Redd Date:11/06/85 Back at Mr. Watanabe's shop . . . Mr. Watanabe had completed his inspection of the Lotus. "Looks not bad," he said. "Will need more ammunition, yes, and there are a few scrapes, but I can fix good." Synth nodded. "Good. How long will the ETSI modules be." "I am sorry, Synth-san. I need one more week to complete ETSI modules for Lotus. Need seperate power supply, but will have finished soon." At this point, Redd and Midi walked in. "Territory looks OK," said Midi. "They didn't seem to follow us here." "But SHIT!" said Redd. "Space and Nomad know we're somewhere around. But these other people? I have no idea what's going on." Mr. Watanabe, who had been waiting for Redd and Midi to conclude their statements, offered a "Hajimemashite Midi-san. Perhaps I can help, yes? What can you tell me about these other people?" Redd and Synth shook their heads. "It's a mystery to me," said Redd. Noting Midi's silence, they turned to him. "You know anything about all this?" Midi smiled guiltily. "It's like this," he began. Subject:Time to Destroy! Number:149 From:Double 'D' Date:11/11/85 "Leach!!, Leach!!, Leach!! are you alright??" "yes,Dee get that bastard that hit me..." "Ok buddy!!" As Double 'D' climbs to an altitude of 2000 feet he spots his target; a small car that has a shitty paint job. The people in the car are unaware of Dee who is 1/4 a mile behind them. Double 'D" starts to type commands into the on board compter. "Rocket enable" -- "Rockets are now enabled" "Machine Guns load" -- "machine Guns ready fire at will" "Laser targeting system on" -- "system ready" Good says Dee a few of my weapons to do my bidding. Dee is now 100 ft behind the bastards at 60 feet. All offensive weapons lock on target at 100,2 --is type in "Fire at will" Launch rockets 1,2,3 -- machine gun at 500 rds per second as the weapons are enabled leach waits Dee return to help him. . . Subject:RUSKI ENGLAND!!! Number:150 From:WHIPSNAP RAP Date:11/19/85 The count walked down the airline hallway very calmlike. His hand wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Hold on dudes, I gotta take a piss" Phun said as he walked into the men's room,"Wait for me!" "O.K. phun, right here!" Phun walked in. At that instant the Count broke off into a sprint A.J. fallowing. "Which airplane? And how do we get on?" inquired A.J. "That one!" he said pointing to a very short line," and this is how we get on!" the count raised Phun's walet and flashed his badge. A.J. smiled. They dove into line, flashed the badge and hoped on. "I wonder where we're going,"said A.J. "Whoo knows, who cares?! Just aslong as Phun's outa' the way" The plane continued for a nother five hours and finaly landed. The Count atempted to look out but a firm sheet of ice plated the window. When the plane came to a stop the count noted there wasn't a normal plane board er! All thoughts deminished as he left the plane, out into the cold. There stood four Russian soldiers. "Oh shit!! We're in Russia!!!!............ Subject:The Fugitive Guys Number:151 From:.synth. Date:11/25/85 Suddenly A.J. said in a loud voice, "Oh wait, I forgot my purse!" and, grabbing Nibble's arm, retreated back into the cabin, which wasn't easy since all traffic flow was opposite their direction. Pushing past a few people, they plopped down into a seat. "Laz, can this be right? Russia?!" A.J. said nervously. "Maybe not," he countered, "I thought I heard someone say Prague. Hold on..." Standing up, he briefly questioned a random man. Nibble sat down again. "Yep, I was right, we're in Czechoslovakia." "Well, we're still in big trouble. We can't get off this plane!" Nibble looked slightly annoyed. "Well how are we going to manage THAT? We can't stay on this plane; this looks like the last stop." "Hey, bud, remember Phun's magical badge??" Nibble paused. "Okay," he admitted, and got up to find someone who resembled a pilot... Subject:"I don't care about you! Fuck You!" Number:152 From:Rup Thrashboy Skuzzbopper Date:11/25/85 "What's up?" said SYnth as he walked into the lab. "Not much," replied Midi," Redd and I were just calling overseas to the MHC to find out what's going on." "Well, what's the word." "Apparently, Leach and Dee got caught be a special anti-terrorist and Comp ter crime team. There currently under arrest and spending time in the maxium security compound near Tuscon Arizona. "Some body heisted a record 12.7 billion dollars from a Swiss Bank account. Rumer has it that it belonged to wome dode names Cuthral. There are no suspect s yet. The only clue is an anarchy symbol painted in blood on the side of the biulding the next morning. "The best news is that our single is number 4 in the states and still climb ing!!!" Nibble and A.J. were pushed down the stairs toward the awaiting crowd of costumes againts. Customs "Damn what now!" cursed A.J. "There, " pointed number, "follow me, follow me carefully!" Nibble bolted across the airfield towards some hangers. There were some shouting behind them. He swung open the door and ran inside.... Subject:Assasin!!!!!! Number:153 From:WHIPSNAP RAP Date:11/25/85 The door flung open. A large stalking man marched in in a military fasion. In his right hand was a long case made of leather. He kicked over a chair in his unstopable path to the window. Setting down his case he veiwed the outside. The opening of the case revealed a polished snipper rifle, unassembled. A few screwes here and a snap on off the high powerered scope onto the dovet ail mount set the assaination weapon firmly grasped in his hands. Proping it onto the window his squinted throught the scope. Sweat mingled across the chest of the soon to be assasin soaking through his black fatigue. The muscles tenses across the mammoth man as he held the rifle firm to it's target. Two shots shattered the window and caused a yelp of pain and cursing from out side. "Oh shit, I'm hit, help me, for god damn sake hel.." the words were finishe d by the third shot. The assasin raised his rifle and douced it into it's container, still in a millitary like fashion. After the actions the man removed a walkie-talkie from his back. "Cutrell?" The man said with an emense French accent. "Yeah, you done?" "Yez zir, I kill target one." Racking evil laughter blasts from the walkie-talkie " The beggining of the downfall of those shit head hackers has started. Heraaahaha!!!!" "Yez zir, I vill go an fine target doo." "Target two, sure, that Count, we're not sure were he is right now. I'm puttin' some slugs on the job to find him, wait for instructions. OK?" "Vait fer Instruk? Yez zir." The man shut his case and calmnly walked off. Out in the street lying in a pool of blood sat ............ Subject:Owoooo! Number:154 From:/\/oo\/\ Date:11/28/85 . . . an extremely annoyed Dave Staehlin. "Ahrrrrgghhh!" screamed the annoyed sysop, grabbing his rear end and holding on for dear life. Having mastered the art of lying down and sitting in the pool of blood at the same time, he tried rolling around a bit too. It didn't help. "Dave! Dave! What happened?" yelled his little sidekick, who rushed to his mentor's side, his newspaper clippings flapping from his pockets. "You look hurt! Wow, look at all that blood!" "I've been shot by one of those damned hackers!" yelled Dave through clenched teeth. "Owoooo!!!! Get a doctor! Get a doctor! The pain, oh, the pain . . . " Suddenly a voice spoke out from the circle of people who had gathered to watch Dave jump up and down yelling. "Ah'm a doctor," said a prim young lady. "Lemme take a look at that backside of your'n." She stepped forward and tried to undo Dave's pants. "Ah can't seem to get these things open!" she said. "Here, let me show you." Adam undid Dave's pants like a pro. Soon Dave was lying face down with his ass in the air. The crowd seemed to be enjoying themselves. "Ohhhwwww, the agony!!" moaned the prostrate sysop. "Ah cain't see anything here . . . oh, wait, here it is. Jeez, mister, it's just a silly bruise. Y'r wallet took the most damage. Looks lahk y'r credit cards blocked the bullets! Gee, American Express Platinum . . ." She started to take down the credit card numbers. "But . . . but where did all the blood come from?" queried the tiny Adam. The alleged doctor dipped a finger into the puddle and tasted it. "Thet ain't blood, thet's Hawaii'n Punch. Fruit-Juicy-Red, tastes lahk. Looks lahk y'r daddy here dropped his soft drink, son . . ." Subject:Oh no! The Peg-Leg Man! Number:155 From:MIDI AMIN Date:11/29/85 "I'm really getting nervous," said Midi in Mr. Watanabe's shop. "Do I have a reason? We haven't seen anybody in the last week. Is this the calm before the storm?" "Could be" said Redd. "Listen!" said Mr. Watanabe. "I know great little tea shop in Kyoto. Tea to relax Midi-san, and saki to knock socks off Redd-san and Synth-san..." Kicking back with a cup of tea, Midi was feeling very relaxed. Looking over at Synth and Redd, he noticed that they were quite a bit more relaxed than he was, but were now starting to switch over to tea so as to be able to think. "So Nomad and Space know that we're here, right? What'll we do about them?" asked Synth. "Would it do any good to snag them?" said Midi. "What? I don't think I heard you" Synth said. "Would it do any good to try to capture them? I mean, if we caught them, could we contain them well enough, or could we brainwash them back, or lobotomize them or what? I've got an idea to get them." "Maybe so," said Redd. "What do you have in mind?" "How about this: I'll be..." Subject:A jail story... Number:156 From:WHIPSNAP RAP Date:11/29/85 "Damn, this place gives me the creeps!" Dee stated to leach. "You know it brow!" replied leach. The driping of their damp cell echoed down the halls. Darkness prevailed ove r the entire area seting the mood into a melencholy atmosphere. The cell door flew open and a well dressed Japanese man was thrown in. "You damn screw! I get you when I get out you stinking pig!" the man said thick in accent while he shook his fist. Dee gave Leach a 'look and this doorknob' tpye of a look and then stood up from his cot. "Hi, I'm Double 'D' and this is leach." "My name Harry," the man said staring at Leach," he don't look like leech to me! What he do, suck blood?!!" "No, no! Thats just what everone calls him" Dee said trying to contain his laughter from Leach. "Oh, they call me Harry." "What you in here for Jap?" Leach said agitated. "Expwosives!" the Jap said histericaly. "Expwosives?" "Yes, Boom! Bang! you know," "What yuo do with these explosives?" inquired Dee "Blow up wife!" Dee and leach blasted out into laughter bending over and falling onto their cots. "Your, ha ha, wife! ha ha!" stammered Leach, "how, ha ha, how did you, ha ha , do it?!" "Simple, I made nitro-glicerin soup! She drink and then go jog, she never come back!!!" < Cont. Next message > Subject:Jail story cont... Number:157 From:WHIPSNAP RAP Date:11/29/85 "Nitro?! Pure? It didn't blow when you heated it?!" "No, I know many of expwosives! Want see some?" "You got explos. on you?!" Dee yelled in a wisper "Oh yes, yes, look," the man reached down and removed his shoes. "They took our shoes," leach said "I know gaurd, he let me keep because they aligator. Besides I pay him eighty dollar." The man removed a false bottom and heel revealing a cube of plastic explosives, a small saterday night special, two size D batteries some wire and a small plastic tube containing an odd green liquid. "A gun!" Leach blurted, "and plastique!" "You want? Here" the man said handing them all but the plastic tube filled with green liquid. "Dee douced the gun and leach examined the explosive and the mismatch detonator. "What's that tube?" questioned Dee "Very powerful expwosive! Klomax-flurite! Boom! When touches air big BOOM!" "What?!" "You wan't see?" "No!! Not yet!" Dee blurted "Wait, Dee, right ouside our window is a van, if we could blow out this wall jump the story between us onto the van and drive off then were home free!" "It's possible, but were not sure if the key's are in the van." "Yes we are," said the Japanese man holding up a key ring,"compliment's of gaurd!" "Jezus! This guy's not just a explosive maniac but he's also a pick pocket!" Dee said Leach strung out the wire and plastered his explosive onto the bars. He atached the wires to the cube and one to the batteries. Subject:Jail Story (Again!) Number:158 From:WHIPSNAP RAP Date:11/29/85 "Hold on, the gaurd's comin'!" Dee stated All the weapons and such were thrown under matresses and pillowes. The gaurd looked into the cell and continued on. "That close." Harry said with a sigh. Leach reatached his explosive and his detonator while Dee pulled out a matre ss. Double 'D' covered himself, Harry, and Leach. Leach smiled brightly as he tou ched the wire to the negative side of the strung bateries. The room shook as the wall shatterd outwards. Leach sprung up as came to the edge of the wall, Dee fallowing. "Out of this hell hole!" Leach yelled as he jumped to the now rubble covered van. He landed with a thump, denting in a portion of the roof.Dee arrived a sec ond later siinking in part of the roof as well. Both recovered and jumped into the van as the siren went off. A third thump on the roof caved it in so that half of harry came through the vinal roofing. "Shit! Help me!" Harry screamed. Leach reached back and pulled Harry through. "Hey, now we've got a sun roof!" Lech said happily. Dee peeled out and began racing for the large fence. Gaurds began shooting ma dly as the van, some hiting the sides, others hit the front but none stoped the van. "We're not gonna get through the gate, it'd take a stick of TNT ta' open it!" screamed a histerical Double 'D'. "No problem!" Harry said sticking his head out the 'sun roof' Harry tossed his plastic tube at the gate looming ahead of them. When it brok e a huge flaming explosion blew the gate to smitherienes leaving a large bonfir e in return as well as numerous dead gaurds. The van raced through and continue d untill it reached the next state. The fugitives found a motel and retired. "Harry, how'd ya' like to join the SWPG?" Subject:In Kyoto again... Number:159 From:MIDI AMIN Date:11/30/85 Coming back from the phone booth, Synth said, "I guess that's it for a while. we're temporarily stuck, since we didn't bring a car, and it'll take us an hour to get a taxi. They're all full taking the overflow from the train system." Redd sipped some more tea and said, "Don't tell me you had something to do with this too, Midi." "Ok, I won't" "You didn't, did you?" "No! Would I bite my own balls off this way?" said Midi, moving over toward the sake. "Don't get touchy. I was just asking." "Ok, I told you I was getting nervous about something. I sure hope Space and Nomad don't wander over here too... Subject:MEANWHILE..Back in the ping pong pits.. Number:160 From:Rip Thrashboy Skuzzbopper Date:12/01/85 Alley opened the door to the white Corvette Twin Turbo. She got inside and opened the conpartment containing the radio. "Teaser to Hopscotch, over." "This is hopscotch, go ahead Teaser, over." "Operation Snag going as planned, section B zeroed, over." "Affermative, start section C, indicate to Goose, over." "Affermative, Teaser out." Alley switched to dial on the radio to the right. "Teaser to Goose, over." "Goose here, want's up Teaser, over." "Section B zeroed, begin section C, over." "Goose aknowlegdes, out." The door to the stairs swung open, and the self-praizing assassin stepped onto the landing. He strode down the first flight confidently. As he started down the second, he heard the door above him close. He saw nothing when he looked up. He continued on his way. The faded red one on the door in front of him indicated freedom and he approched it quickly. As he reached for the doorknob, the sound of a bolt clicking yanked his attention. "Move slow or die fast." a voice said from behind him. He turned slowly to face the voice. "Get him Janni," said Goose to the smaller teen that was standing next to h im." put the cuffs on him, and give his case." The assassin did not struggle and gingerly haded the case to Janni, who took it and pulled his hands around into the cuffs. The assassin eyed the silenced Ingram that the taller teen held. "Okay," said Janni," got him Goose." "All right dick-munch, we're going up to the roof, and then for a ride." Goose said to the assassin as he poked the gunbarrel deeply in assassin's ribs. Subject:"Deep cuts the knife..." Number:161 From:Rip Thrashboy Skuzzbopper Date:12/01/85 "Hopscotch to Teaser, over." "Teaser, over." "Goose says section C is complete, Meet us at rendezvous point, over." "Affermative, section B target is ok, hit in the ass, that's all, over." "Affermative Teaser, out." Alley gunned the engine of the Corvette out into the countryside in Switze rland. She wiped off the Hawiian punch on a rag. Janni opened the door and pushed the assassin through. He and Goose stepp ed through. They escorted the assassin to the helicopter. they walked pass it to the edge of the building where a lone figure waited. Goose shooved the assassin forward and the figure spoke. "Where is he?" The assassin did not speak. "Where is he?!" the figure shouted this time. Again the assassin did not speak. The helicopter started warming up and Janni walked over and handed Rip the possessions he had taken from the assassin . Rip smiled as he looked up from the passport. "Dump him." was all he said . Goose picked up the assassin with one hand and tossed him over the edge. Then he and Rip walked towards the helicopter, Janni watched as the body fell down the 25 stories and hit the ground like a back of wet-cement. "We could of interrogated him, couldn't we?" said Goose. "No, no time," came the reply," Cutrell is moving against everbody, Redd and the gang in Japan in trouble if we don't find Laz quickly. Dee and Leach should be safely in Japan if we can get them out of Cutrell's hands and into ours. Nomad and Space are out of it until they figure ut who's side they are really on." Subject:Harry Harry Harry... Number:162 From:WHIPSNAP RAP Date:12/01/85 "What SWPG?" "South West Pirates Guild." answered Dee The three fugeitives were in a run down hotel room. "It's a bunch of dudes like us who are bein' chased by the shit-kadet FEDs" inserted Leach as he pouced onto the bed. "Other people?" "Yeah, yeah, there's Count, A.J., Redd, Midi, .synth., Rip, and us." "Well, I got check conections, OK?" "Yeah, sure, go check em' now!" "Ok, you no go, right?" "Yeah, yeah, we'll stay here, just make your conections and stuff and tell us later. While your at it get some food," Leach said scratching his stomach. "Ok." Harry opened the door of the room and walked over to a fone booth. He diale d some numbers and then began to speak "Yes, agent four-seven-two-o-one here. Mission accomplished, request backup for capture." Harry said in a perfect english accent. "All right, Cutrell says he'll be accompaning that back up." "Er.., in person?!" Harry said frightened "You got it mac. Watch out. It'll be there in five to ten minutes. Over and out." "Out." Dee fiddled with the knobs to the television. "Can't pick it up exactly." Dee stated. Leach opened all the cabenets and such in the room. "Will this do?" inquired Leach holding up a found nail file. "Yeah," Dee said grabing it. Dee began unloosening the front panel of the TV. Subject:CONTINUED FROM LAST Number:163 From:WHIPSNAP RAP Date:12/01/85 After removing the panel Dee began madley switching wires here and there. He then turned on the TV and parried from a stray shock flying from the panel. Static prevailed across the screen. Dee slightly moved a wire on a coil ring and an image flicked onto the screen. The image was a message that read: <=International Underground Pirate's Guild Update=> The information has been aquired that two hackers named Double 'D' and Leach have been captured by the overlaw crime master, Cutrell. Confirmation of this is not for sure but it will happen, most probably, within' an hour. Double 'D', or Leach, if your watching, watch out. Onto lighter subjects Infocom has come out with it's first Wizardry like counter part in which cracking is accomplished the following wa..... Leach looked at Dee. "Cutrell? Who the hell is he?!" "Me, slug heads!" yelled Cutrell standing in the doorway holding a sawed off 12 gaje........ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ________ ______ //______\\__ __ | \___/ ___ |__//\\____ | __| /_(_\_\_\_|----------~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ |_______/ /_/ | | Avenging the Guild \____\ By Whipsnap Rap ------------------------------------------------------------ Chapter One: It all came back... the war. Damn that war... memories that tarnished my mind forever, but now, it didn't matter, nothing mattered, exept survival. Survival.. life now all boiled down to survival. With all the rising militientsdotting the blackened ground you either join, or die. Me? I was part of a group called the 3-Elite, because thats exactly what we were, three psycho vietnam vets, hating the new world. New world, well, more like shity world.. damn nukes tore the ground into shreads, the sky? A nice purplish-yellow. Damn.. I guess its been fifteen years since I've seen any other creature besides humans and cockroaches! Oh well... fuck the world is a common saying. "Jeff? Wake up bro!" Todd said looking up from the polishing of his M-16. "Huh? Oh...." I came out of my hypnotic state. I looked at Todd, and then bent over my knife again. 'Not quite sharp enough' I thought, and continued to push my whet-stone on either side of the blade. Danny walked in and I looked up to see him. His shirt was numerously torn and blood caked his chest. He clutched it with one hand and held his .44 in the other. "What the fuck happened?" Todd yelled jumping up with his M-16. He peered outthe door with a few blasts from his assault rifle slamed it and jumped to the side while I jumped down and helped Danny lay down. The walls exploded as bullets ripped through it, like a knife through cardboard. I pushed myself down to the floor. "Gun runners, damn ambush.." Danny gasped out. I gave Todd a "oh shit!" glance, which he promptly returned. When the firering stoped I got off the ground and ran up the old metal stairsthat occupied the room. I dashed up coming to a door which I burst through, ontothe roof. I then crept up to the edge and yanked a Light Anti-tank Weapon, a LAW, and grabed a couple of grenades. Below me was a large armoured veichle, lined with heavy weapons. Many men in desert fatigues jumped from the back and took various positions. I acted quickly, aiming the LAW down onto the truck I yelled "Up here, shit heads!" and yanked down the trigger. I felt the kick of the law and the smoke surounded me as it shot off at it's victum. A thundering explosion confermed my hit and a graceful collumn of flame covered the ground. Screams of pain and agony tantelized my sadistic mood, and to add to it I stood up and fired down with my sawed off 8-gaje on wounded gun runners. Todd came out and joined me in finishing the off by jamming the bayonete of his M-16 into heads he came apon. When I was sure everything but us was dead I went back downstairs to help Danny. He was on a cot that Todd must have put him in and was staring contently at the cieling. "You Ok?" I inquired "Yeah.. I oughta' be. I know where he is, Jeff. Finaly, after all these years I know where he is!" "Cutrell?!" "Yeah!" he laughed, "We got him!" My anger and joy mixed. Long we had hunted Cutrell.. after the destruction of the group once we were a large part of, our cource in life was set. Cutrell would die! Todd came in with an armful of guns and ammo. "We found him!" Todd's face went blank. he droped his load and stared at us. A sadistic cruel look sneered into it and he removed his knife. He stabed it into the table, and looked up satisfied. My knife fallowed, and even in Danny's condition, his blade stuck fast as well. ---------------------------------------------------- Chapter Two: Danny recovered over a week period and scetched out what he knew about Cutrell's location. Apparently Cutrell was the HEAD of the gun runners, and had a large base about fourty miles from our current location. "Heavily gaurded! I think we might need help on this one guys!" Danny said "What about Ernie? What ever happened to him? After the FBI was after them Ernie dissapeared somewhere?" I asked "Yeah, he's the last guy that could still be alive" Todd said "He still is, you roach-bags!" said a very familiar voice. I turned to see Ernie standing there, decked out in black leather. Hanging loosly from his shoulder was a black polished AR-22. "AR-22, how ironic for such a sleezebag to have such a nice weapon" Dany said and then jumped up to greet Ernie warmly. We fallowed. "That isn't all, you low lifes," Ernie said happily as he the pushed aside the door to reveal a polished black 1994 Corvette. I could feel all three of us wincing at the buety of such a machine. "Where the hell did you get that?!" I yelled "Found it.. just kidding.. I came accross the deal in Europe." "Europe?! That's where you were all these years?! Europe?!" Danny stammered "Yeah.. well, I couldn't help hearing your conversation, you need help?" "It's about time!" Todd boomed. We came together again, and shook hands. ----------------------------------------------------- Chapter three: I lay there, slightly burried in sand squinting through a pair of binoculars. Beside me were the other three, weapons ready. The base was there, just like Danny had said, but there was something else there as well, a missle. The missle streached out of the base, high into the sky, putting an evil stab into the sight of sand. I pulled my cloth across my face, to sheild it from the slashing sand, blowing in all dirrections. I handed the noc's to the others and they also saw the threat. "I say we burry it, take over and burry it." Todd said, under his breath. Noone disagreed. We waited till night fall, twelve o'clock, and then we moved in. We crawed to the perimiter and slit a dozing gaurds neck. We split up, I taking the direct aproach... right down the main corridor. I crept along through the well lit corridor, holding a silenced .38 in my hand. The corridor continued for another three hundred feet, and nothing had plagued my path yet. I came to an elevator, that went down, and only down, so I pressed the button and stood their gun raised and pointed in. The doors opened and a surprised gaurd was standing there. A muffled "wiz" sprayed the gaurd's guts onto the wall, he was dead before he collapsed to the ground. I jumped in and pressed the only button in the wall. Quickly the elevator decended into the earth, throwing me off balence. I fell to the floor and the elevator screamed to a halt. The doors opened and the wall above me was shreaded by a blast of bullets. I cranked out the rest of my revolver out of the elevator from my prone position. I then slowly droped my .38 and reached back for my sawed off. I stood up with it in my hands to see two dead gaurds, who must have known I was coming. Then it hit me.. closed circtut TV! The whole place was rigged. I looked up to see just what I suspected, a small camera. With a blast from my sawed-off the camera exploded, and sparked out in a flowering blaze. I then jumped out and remained very cautious of the new threat. I continued on down the new corridor thirty feet, wasting the little "squeillers" as I went on. Booted feet came thundering down the corridor and I jumped to the side. I pulled the pin to a grenade and jumped out surprising a group of soldiers. Their triggers were itchy though, and they started letting off a few rounds at me, not noticing the grenade rolling between their feet. With a cracking boom all eight soldiers fell full of small fragmentations. I chuckled slightly and continued on. A suspisious sound came from around the corner. I eased up to it and raised my shot gun. Quickly I jumped around and pointed my gun at Todd, who inturn was pointing his at me. We laughed and joined each other. From behind us jumped out the rest of the group, both looking as battle worn as Todd and I. We now stood infront of a large door. It was heavy metal, and looked very thick. It was somewhat of a safe-door. We looked at eachother knowing what was behind that door, also know that what was behind that door knew we were here as well. I shot the mini-camera right above it, as I had done previously and then turned to the group. Todd removed a pack of dynamite that he had labeled "Cutrell" on. He calmly placed it next to the door and we all walked down the hall a large distance. He had uncoiled a long wire and we were crouching behind a large crate. He atached one wire to a pack of d's he had rigged and then slid the other accross the bottom. A tremendous boom echoed down the hall, and debris landed in all directions. I looked up to see the door gone, and a large chared hole in its place. Behind a huge desk was our ultimatum, Cutrell. He had a wild smile on his bald head and was holding a mounted M-60. "So, you guys didn't get enough of my first waste, aye' slugs?!" he said madly and began blasting everything in the hall. We all hit the deck, for the crete wasn't going to take many hits. Ernie hurled a canister into the hallway which burst into smoke. With just as quick reflexes I fitted a gas mask over my head. The others fallowed. The firering stoped and so I stood up slowly and crept forward. Ernie moved to the side of the corridor and moved forward, gun ready. Todd was three feet behind me, and about four feet to the side. Danny stayed back covering us, under his AK-M. I emmerged from the smoke into his office, it seemed empty but that was decieving. The room itself was a sight, covered in thick carpet, it looked more like a lawn of purple strands. The walls were painted over in blue, and his desk looked extensivly expensive. Suddenly a concealed panel in the wall burst open to Cutrell holding an Uzi. He tore away at us, and I took a shot in the leg. I fell to the ground and heard crying of pain behind me. I lifted my sawed off and fired. Cutrell flew back a few feet and droped his uzi. A bloody patch covered his fat stomach, but he stood there with a mad smile on his face. "You can't kill me! You can't kill me!" he screamed and started to run at me with his hands open, in a chocking manner. Shots came issuing from behind me impacting with Cutrell's body. The shots sent him back and held him to a wall but he continued to scream "You can't kill me!" I rasied my sawed off slowely, and yelled "Yes we can, you asshole!!" with that I squeezed the trigger and the gun reacted with a kick back. Cutrell's head burst from it's neck, exploding with the impact of the shot. Various peices of scull, and brain littered the room, and the wall was now a scarlet red. The body stood there for another instant, seeming as if Cutrell was still alive, but then collapsed to the ground with a squishing thud. I limped to a stand and truned around to see my companions. Danny was the only one who hadn't taken a wound and stood there, satisfied with the avenge. Ernie was grasping his arm and blood swirled out from underneath his fingers. Todd's right hip was bubbling out with blood from a deep skin. All had a look of acomplishment on their faces, the avenge had been done. "We did it."I murmered. "You're damn right we did it!" the rest boomed. I smiled and turned twoards Cutrell's desk, a small light was flashing. Cautiously I approached it... "Missle self destruction countdown begining...." The end of this tale... but also a begining... By \ /\ / |\ \/ \/hipsnap |/ap |\ Author's note: The characters depicted in this are familiar, and if you know them and wish to make a fallowing tale, I welcome it. Also, to count: Sorry about the ole' TNS. Mabey this makes up for it? [Any fucking with this T-file without my consent will mean your 8 year old sister getting majorly raped by a dobermine-pincher!!] 1-20-86 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ::: Afterword (1992) ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Well, there you have it -- seven months' worth of globetotting locations and anus-puckering action, weird creative thinking and pumping testosterone, exotic supercars and fabulous babes, and an endless armory of hideously over-elaborate and overpowered weaponry. "You'll never see its like again," sez I, who oughta know 'cos I was there for it all. The SWPG NES is flatly the most amazing and enriching creative experience I've ever had. Since then I've participated in a handful of other Never- Ending Stories, scripted and acted in short films, inked and lettered smutty comic books, and interviewed a motley handful of pop stars and media heroes, and none of it has ever come within a million miles of touching the pure screaming adrenaline buzz of gang-writing this twisted little story alongside the people who were, at the time, my closest friends and favorite partners in crime -- the SWPG Regulars: Rip T. Skuzzbopper, Space, Synth F. Oberheim, Nomad and Prince Phun, Redd Slaver, Whipsnap Rap, and a handful of others. Their "real" names don't matter -- what counts is the attitude and passion behind what they wrote, and if you can't see it, you're *blind*, buddy. For a few short months in the heart of upper-middle-class Reagan America, this story bound us together. When we weren't uploading the latest chapters of it to The Fourth Reich, we were down at the local McD's plotting the next few episodes. When we weren't out wilding on four wheels, illegal, anarchic and insane on the slick and shiny post-summer- thunderstormed nighttime streets of Albuquerque, we were holed up at Rip's, pitching ideas back-and-forth, reaching for the literary edge of the envelope -- that total mental funzoid assault that accompanied the act of putting down on magnetic media the stupid adolescent fantasies that we knew we could never truly live out, but somehow always kept trying. To put it bluntly, people, it was a fucking *rush*. Nothing before or since will quite match it. In the years since, most of the hardcore regulars of the Southwest Pirates' Guild have drifted apart or drifted away. People change -- they grow up and grow together, or give up and fade out. And very few people indeed are lucky enough to have a part of their adolescence that they can look back on with pride, to take and share with other people and say: "This is who I was. Ain't it grand?" This story made *me* that lucky. I hope it did the rest of us too -- that seven years later, or more, we can still hand a copy of the original Never-Ending Story to a new friend or aquaintance, and say: "Welcome to my dreams." Wherever you went, or whatever happened, guys, this one's for you. -- /\/oo\/\ "Count" Lazlo Hollifeld-Nibble June 1992, Albuquerque, New Mexico ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Space Bar (505) 265-5178 pw:BANZAI 300 only 4x143K drives + ramdisk Blue Oyster Bay (409) 693-7908 pw:DHARMA 300/1200 2x326K drives + ramdisk Terrapin Station (505) 865-0883 pw:CICADA 300/1200 3x143K drives + ramdisk The Fourth Reich (505) 298-1705 (Ind. Pw) 300 only Barely enough for a BBS ------------------------------------------------------------------------------