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File ÝßÜ Ý ÜÝ ÝßÝÜÝ Written March 20th, 1993
#036 Ý Ýig Ýong ÜßÝ Ýnd Ý Ýairy
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Presents
Ú ÄÄ ¿
"Fear and Loathing in Cyberspace"
³ by ³
Constantine
À ÄÄ Ù
Fear and Loathing in Cyberspace
Part One : Gibson Rolls in His Grave
I hate these undercover jobs. There I was, sitting at the bar
at a seedy dive called Pandora's Box, surrounded by 12-year-olds
packing heat. Most of them had credits that they hung on their
handles like war medals-- FTL, ThG, PaNzY-- mine were fake, but
they got me through the front door. If any of these people
found out I was a field reporter for BLaH, I was as good as
formatted.
Next to me, a kid by the name of HaCkErSuPrEmE was bragging
about his latest score-- he had a pirated copy of Little People
Farm II, BEFORE it had been programmed. Attempting to make
friends with the locals, I patted him on the back and said,
"Hey, you're a K-RaD d00d!"
All sound in the bar stopped, as a hundred pairs of eyes
turned to regard me. I realized my cover had been blown as
the kid squinted at me and said, "What do you mean, K-RaD?"
"Well, you know... K-RaD."
"No, I _don't_ know. Maybe it's me, I'm a little fucked up
maybe, but what do you mean K-RaD?"
"Well, like how you trade warez and things..."
"Hey," said another geek from the back, "He didn't mean
anything by it--"
"Shut up, Foster!" the kid said, turning back to me. "K-RaD
how? Like I'm a fucking WareZ geek? Like I'm here to upload?
What do you mean, K-RaD?!"
Our eyes locked, and I suddenly realized he had been putting
me on. I started to laugh hysterically.
That's when he pulled the virus on me.
I knew it was going to be a bad day.
***
Earlier that morning, I had woken in my chambers at Evermore
Keep [312/476/1508[ShamelessPlugNote[TM]]] to find a piece of
email from our fearless leader, Guido Sanchez, shoved under my
door. It read:
"Connie:
Some new warez group called PeNiS claims that they're
going to destroy the world in two weeks. Phrack and 2600
are trying to get an interview with their leader, who is
purportedly protected by a web of intrigue, a network of
fanatically loyal assassins, unlimited resources, eighteen
miles of barbed wire fencing and minefields, and a really
big dog. Would you pop on over there sometime before lunch
and get an exclusive interview? Thanx,
Gweed."
I deleted the email and cursed under my breath-- this was
DEFINITELY going to put a dent in my TradeWars game.
***
I got off the barstool and stared the punk down. He had a
Saturday Night Special, an over-the-counter virus that reeked
of VCL 1.0 coding. No matter, it could still put a hole in me
that all the cheap WareZ in the net couldn't fix. Reflecting
that this might not have been the best place to come for
information, I quickly pulled out my own trump card. There
was a chorus of gasps from the crowd.
"It's a Whore virus!" cried one dough-faced warez geek.
"That's right," I snarled, waving the Whore at the crowd, "You
know the reputation this thing has, and you know what it can do
to you. One false move and I format this whole bar!"
The punk held steady. Our eyes locked.
"Feeling lucky, geek?" I said.
He put the virus down, reluctantly. I quickly sucker-punched
him and ran for my life, leaping over the bartop and out the
back door as the WareZ geeks howled for my blood.
My term program was waiting outside, a cherry '91 Telemate 2.0
Registered with the motor running. With the squeal of 2400-baud
tires, I was out of there in a flash.
***
Back at BLaH headquarters in Evermore, a familiar face was
waiting for me.
"Hey!" I cried with joy, "Nowhe--"
"SHHH!" he said. "I'm incognito. Call me Lemuel."
"Le Mule?"
"Lemuel."
"Whatever turns you on. Have you got any info on PeNiS?"
"Well, it's rather large and--"
"The GROUP!"
"Oh... Ever heard of the Obloid Sphere?"
I had. It was a nightclub downtown, undergoing some
high-speed remodeling. People said he was turning Elite.
"I know of it."
"The sysop's a guy named James Hetfield. Sounds like someone
is putting the strongarm on him to go 14.4-- check it out."
"Could be a PeNiS behind it... I'll see you later."
***
It was a short jaunt to the Obloid Sphere [708/965/3098[Extra
ShamelessPlugNote[TM]]], and a shorter jaunt to the back door,
where my credentials as a Telegard Team member let me in. The
place was thick with the dust of new construction work, and I
saw something like file vaults being built in the back of the
room.
"Son of a bitch," I said, "He's going WareZ."
That was all I got out before a trojan horse hit me from
behind, sending me crumpling into blackness...
TO BE CONTINUED...
Stay tuned for the next installment of "Fear and Loathing in
Cyberspace", coming soon to a BLaH Sig(h)t near you! Next up:
Part Two-- Superman's Rotting Corpse!
(---End of File. Propaganda Ensues.---}
Huzzah for Connie for releasing another file.. if you haven't gotten the
BLaH Ejaculation file that heralds our cumback, check it out at THESE
BLaH <sigh>ts..
Battle of Evermore <312>476-1508
The Obloid Sphere <708>965-3098
Nun-Beaters Anon. <708>251-5094
He wants the eggdish... I am the waitress!
{---I don't think they're doing it on PURPOSE... ---}
