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The Purple Thunderbolt of spode Volume 2 Issue 36
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SBI-Submarine Pens Proudly Presents:
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THE PURPLE THUNDERBOLT OF SPODE VOL 2, 36
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"One year and REPLIES TO: HailOtis@socpsy.sci.fau.edu
still going strong"
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WRITE TO: IGHF/955 Massachusetts Ave., Suite 209/Cambridge, Ma 02139
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INTRO
####===================================================================####
Here's another issue for you. I'm quite pleased with this issue seeing as
most of the material was cobbled together by our loyal readers. As a
special treat, in this issue you get a long awaited installment from "The
Messenger of the Gods." (which hopefully will encourage those other serial
writers to submit more of their material.)
How's that for a short intro?
####===================================================================####
Spode Strikes Again!
####===================================================================####
Date: Fri, 29 Nov 91 11:27:10 CST
From: Rev <UC521832@UMCVMB.missouri.edu>
Subject: stuff
[...]
Yesterday my housemate Jeff and I drove to St. Louis to spend thanksgiving
with Jeff's girlfriend Prima and her family. Prima was in the hospital
following gall bladder-removal surgery so we headed to the hospital first.
Jeff knew the exit leading to the hospital was between two particular
landmarks. We spent forty-five minutes driving back and forth between
those two points, taking every exit and looking both ways before getting
back on the highway to poke around more. This length is maybe 3 miles or so
at the very most; we went up and down this five or six times in increasing
frustration.
There was a reason for our problem.
One of the exits went to... get this... Spoede Road!
The first time I saw it I cried out and said "It's Spode! We're screwed!"
and explained to Jeff about Spode. Soon he agreed and we kept crying "No
it's Spode!" every time we hit that exit. In fact, we got off there a
couple times in case the hospital might be there. It wasn't of course, but
Spoede Road was this little suburban residential area where the streets had
names like Spoede Drive, Spoede Glen, etc. and it was very frightening.
With the presence of Spo(e)de there it became frighteningly clear that we
had no hope of finding the hospital. We headed to Prima's house and got
directions. It turns out Jeff had the landmarks wrong and we had passed the
hospital some ways before this.
Of course.
So there it is. My own encounter with the awful whimsy of Spode, made
horrifically real to me as the boredom mounted and the frustration
escalated over the course of those forty-five hellish minutes. I won't
doubt in the validity of OTISianism after this, and I'll sure as hell do
whatever I can to prevent Spode from looking on me with such disfavor ever
again.
Rev
I figure I can be confused if you can be stupid. -- B. Ives
####===================================================================####
Valentines Day
####===================================================================####
Date: 2 Feb 92 18:59:00 EST
From: "Wombat" <HILLV@vax001.kenyon.edu>
Subject: speaking of cheerful stuff
To: "hailotis" <hailotis@socpsy.sci.fau.edu>
From: VAX001::HILLV "She'd sit in silence in her rented room/ dream of
her childhood and invented truths." 2-FEB-1992 18:57:54.08
To: HILLV
CC:
Subj: valentine's day
A new holiday fast approaches, so stop with all of that stupid Christmas stuff.
My sense of humor about reindeer is really running low. Anyway, this holiday.
Which one," you may well ask. "There are so bloody many in the winter and we
unfortunately don't get any of them off from school, work, etc. So what's the
big idea about having them in the first place??"
Here, the wombat pouts. Or at least, attempts to. To avoid a potentially dull
mail message to Mal and/or dull issue of PURPS, you my imaginary other half of
this conversation asks me to continue.
No, I continue, not the first anniversary of the 1991 Papal
Ball. No, not Jeremiah's ninteenth birthday (Congratulate him anyway--
BUDZIK@vax001.kenyon.edu). Chad already bought a hat this decade, don't
look for that to happen again any time soon either.
No, this is the holiday everyone either wears red or black for. No, not
Graduation. Yes, the day Hallmark and florists love almost as much as Mother's
Day--St. Valentine's Day. Since several links to the OTISian network are
single or involved with mates who are at this time busy with other things and
forget details like dates even when not busy, this little ditty suggests what
could happen if this silly holiday is not abolished or toned town or
demarketized or SOMETHING.
Sing a song of OTIS
(Pockets full of lye)
Chad is quite single
So is Jeoffee I
[pronounced "I" not "first"]
When the day was over
Stale chocolate beckoning
Invoke special Papal Power--
caloric missiles fling!
RC was in the Chem Lab
combining dilithium barometric juice with phenal acedomedrprin crystals,
Spode was eating roses
and smashing chocolate bunnies
Mal was in a palm tree
with a knotted hose
["noose" didn't fit, sorry]
Where St. James and Jen have gone
no one really knows!
Actually, perhaps wearing black on Mother's Day might not be a bad idea....
Depending on how much you really hate your childhood and/or consumer culture.
####===================================================================####
In The Beginning
####===================================================================####
Date: Mon, 3 Feb 92 06:35:06 MST
From: owhite@NMSU.Edu
Subject: Purps 35. On time and everything!
this is a script from the same ars nova show as the digital
domain piece.....
THE STAGE IS DARK, ADAM IS LYING ON THE FLOOR AND GOD WALKS IN AND
TOUCHES ADAM. ADAM AWAKES, AND STANDS UP. GOD ADDRESSES ADAM.
NARRATOR:In the beginning the world had just begun, and god, thinking
that things were a bit too perfect decided to create a human. The scene
opens as god is about to explain to Adam the rules of the house.
GOD ENTERS.
NARRATOR:This is god, any similarity to the actual character is purely
coincidental.
GOD WALKS OVER TO ADAM. ADAM IS LYING ON THE FLOOR.
NARRATOR:This is Adam, for purposes of establishing funding from a
national agency, Adam is wearing clothes.
GOD WALKS OVER TO ADAM AND TOUCHES HIS NOSE. ADAM STANDS.
GOD: Welcome to paradise. You can do anything you want except _one_
_thing_. Do not eat from the tree of broccoli.
ADAM: <confused> the tree of broccoli?
GOD: Yeah, no broccoli. Nothing from the tree of broccoli, and take
it easy on the tree of cabbage.
ADAM: <densely> well okay.
ADAM WALKS OFF AND ENCOUNTERS THE SNAKE.
SNAKE: HEY! you're new here...so you met GOD yet?
ADAM: Yeah, he told me not to eat from t the tree of broccoli.
SNAKE: <scowls> great! broccoli tastes terrible.
NARRATOR APPEARS.
NARRATOR: Several years pass.
GOD AND ADAM MEET.
GOD: <hooks his thumbs under his armpits, looks pleased> So ADAM, have
you eaten from the tree of broccoli?
ADAM: No GOD, just like you said: no broccoli.
GOD LOOKS A BIT LIKE: "hmmmmmm, this just isn't working..."
GOD: Okay, okay. New rules: GOD PULLS APPLE OUT. This is an apple.
Best work I've done...really...to give you an idea: you I made
from clay in half an hour, the apple took me two years,
quality time. Now this apple...GOD TAKES A BIG BITE...don't
eat it....SMACKS LIPS...definitely do not eat this delicious
apple.
ADAM: Okay....WALKS OFF....BEGINS TO EXAMINE APPLE AND A PIECE OF
BROCCOLI....
SNAKE APPEARS. GOD IS ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE STAGE WATCHING
SNAKE: <sly look> remember Adam, BROCCOLI tastes terrible.
ADAM CONSIDERS HIS OPTIONS AND BITES THE APPLE, ON THE OTHER SIDE OF
THE STAGE WE SEE GOD.
GOD: <giddily> YEEEEEESS!!!!
####===================================================================####
Bad Jokes
####===================================================================####
Date: Mon, 3 Feb 92 09:03:49 MST
From: owhite@NMSU.Edu
Subject: some things about nature should remain a mystery.
[stuff deleted]
no you don't under stand....I tell bad jokes...
well, here goes....I bet you could dress it up and it might be
okay......I give you license to change the surrounding story how ever
you please.
While I was at UMass, the physics prof was explaining some basic
stuff, and said: "and where is the center of mass?"
I shouted: "springfield!!"
funniest joke I have ever made.
you get the idea....
####===================================================================####
The Wayward CBer
####===================================================================####
Date: Tue, 4 Feb 1992 01:54 -0500
From: ICMX500@INDYVAX.IUPUI.EDU
Subject: Laugh
To: barker@ACC.FAU.EDU
Hi mal, this is Matt (Armitage). I just got this letter that is being
spread around the net and thought you might find a use for it.
-----------------------Begin here-------------------------------------
WAYWARD CBer....
The following is an actual letter. The original was typewritten,
and all spelling and grammar has been carefully left intact,
including errors.
To Mr. (name omitted)
District Manager for Alabama
Radio Shack
3300 N. Pace Blvd
Pensacola, FL. 32505
Dear Sire,
This letter is complain about the problems I have having with the
ham radio model number 19-1101 I had got from your company Radio
Shack. I had this shipped special to me from your store 1096
Eastdale Mall Montgomery Alabama. I was got this because I think
that i would get transmitt furthur that I did with the TRC 217 40
channel walkie talkie.
The problem that had first was when I was going to hook this radio
HTX-1000 to the antenna the conektor on the radio was wrong it
wouldn't attach to my cable. I was able to hook it finally by
making a small change in in the connektor. As soon as I tried to
use it there was no sound coming at all. This happened for two
days and I never did get to talk to anybody the whole two days.
That day the cable company came knocking my door and said there was
something causing problems at my house and disconnekted my radio
from the cable line. you knew when i brought the Radio that I was
going to use that for my antenne. You didn't tell me not to why
not?
Next time I decided to put the HTX-1000 in my automobile I thought
I would see how it worked their. I hooked it to my CB-antenna and
at least I could hear people. But what happens now is no one wants
to talk to me because they says you have to have a licencs to talk
to them. Why? I don't have to have a licencs to talk on my CB.
They'll talk to me there. Anyhow it don't matter much anymore
because somebody done took the radio HTX-1000 from my automobile.
What I would like for you Radio Shack to do is refund my money
because I don't have the radio anymore and its not my fault i don't
and I think you should give me back my money. Also the cable
company here says that I hurt something in there line and want to
be paid fix it. It will cost $27482.98 to fix the equipment they
say was damaged because you didnt tell me not to hook it to the
cable. Please remit to me the check for $27758.53 for damages
due. To save this matter from going to court the check must be in
my hand by June first or I will turn this over to my attorneys of
law.
Thank you
name withheld
--------------------------cut here-------------------------------
Matt Greenwood
Icmx500@indyvax.iupui.edu
ICMX500@indycms.iupui.edu
ICMX500@indyvax.bitnet
------Wisdom is knowing that you know what you know, and knowing what you
do not know.
Emerson
####===================================================================####
Zen Jokes
####===================================================================####
Date: Wed, 5 Feb 1992 08:30:51 EST
From: Dan Lusthaus <haus%ux1.cso.uiuc.edu@ULKYVM.LOUISVILLE.EDU>
Subject: zen lightbulbs
----------------------------Original message----------------------------
The following seems to be making e-mail rounds, so I thought I'd share it
with the group (I am NOT the author).
Question: How many Zen Buddhists does it take to change a light bulb?
1. At the lowest level of enlightenment: Two - one to change it and one
not to change it.
2. At the next level of enlightenment: Only one, since he both changes and
does not change the light bulb.
3. Highest level of enlightenment: None at all. The universe provides the
lightbulb and does all the spinning. The Zen Buddhist just stays out of
the way.
sorry!
####===================================================================####
Another Installment of: Messenger of the Gods
####===================================================================####
[Yes, after a very long absence this amazing serial returns to Purps, no
doubt due to the inspiration of certain parties. Special thanks goes to
Lulu for the invention of V. and G. at the end of this episode. This
essentially picks up where the last episode left off. Maybe this well
encourage some of our newer members to get some of our old back issues.]
"Took long enough. Now what? You folks hungry?" asked the second standing
up and rummaging around in the pockets of his gory suit coat. The boat
rocked madly and seemed on the verge of tipping over. Neither of the two in
the boat seemed to be bothered by this.
"Ahoy! Could you show us the way out of here," I asked taking the
initiative. The Man in Black seemed too uncomfortable to speak.
"Here have a Felt Brother's indestructible treat," said the second, tossing
us this thing in a wrapper. The woman caught it and gasped in wonder at the
packaging. She seemed mesmerized by it. I glanced at it for a moment and
had to force my eyes away. I felt like I was being hypnotized. Perhaps
these two weren't here to save us but to capture us.
"Hey, well gosh, if it ain't the Man in Black," said the one with the
helmet. "Thought you saucer types knew your way around there parts."
The Man in Black cleared his throat but didn't say anything.
"Vivisectionist got you tongue?" taunted the one who'd been rowing. He
stepped out of the row boat and began to amble over. The surface he was
walking on seemed to undulate like it was water.
"You're never at a loss for words when you go scaring helpless earthlings
are you? Give 'em one of your scare stories about Nightmare Alley or
brainwashing caps," said the other. From somewhere he produced a small
anchor which he tossed overboard. It sank into the tornado green fog,
playing out bright green rope for possible fifty feet before it hit bottom.
"We must go," said the Man in Black clearly very uncomfortable.
"Wait," I said, "can't these two show us the way out."
"It doesn't matter if they did. It might be better that we were lost here
forever."
"Nothing could be better than this," said the woman who said something
under her breath in German that sounded like a curse.
"Actually," said the one in the helmet, stepping out of the boat and
walking over. He produced a can of silly string from one of the pockets of
his toga, "We were sent here."
"Yeah some bozo showed up while we were eating dinner at the Damned
Duck--," began the one with the green streaked teeth who had been rowing.
He stood in front of us and seemed to tower over us. There was just
something wrong with him. His body was out of proportion. I could tell he
wasn't human.
"--Lame Duck," corrected the other.
"Lame Squid," said the first.
"--Lame Duck! Say it right. Those folks deserve some respect."
"--Lame duck," said the one with the streaked teeth glared at the other
from behind his multicolored sun glasses. "When suddenly this Spode
character shows up at our table. The next thing we knew, while he was
unscrewing the tops of the salt and pepper shakers, he told us he had a
little job for us."
"Naturally," continued the one in the helmet, "We told him where he could
place that job."
"That's when we found it he was a god," said the other.
"And to make a long story short, we're here to rescue you instead of having
to spend quite a long time in a very embarrassing situation."
"Even though we really knew that we'd never actually spend time in that
embarrassing situation. After all we have connections."
"Yes connects."
"Who are these two?" asked the women in the trench coat with growing alarm
yanking on my sleeve.
"Damned if I know," I said.
Meanwhile, in some other dimension that contained a massive projection t.v.
showing the events mentioned above:
"Oh Spode, why must you do these things to me!" asked a very exasperated
Otis from his Morris Chair. He was seated next to the smirking Spode.
"Well I am the God/dess of Chaos," pointed out Spode, buffing his nails on
the a lapel and changing gender back and forth a few times.
"I know, but them of all people! Can't you see that those are the authors
favorite characters and if he's not careful he'll switch plots on us and
I'll never get my Valentine!"
"Oh stop whimper. Be a big God."
"Okay, but things had better change soon or else," pouted Otis.
"So like want a ride?" asked the one in the helmet. He'd begun randomly
emptying the silly string into the fog around him which seemed to support
it. It hung there like cheap horror movie cob webs. He was making a very
big mess.
"Yes!" I said, my head spinning from dealing with these two along with a
very quite and sullen Man in Black and a misguided pilot with a German
accent.
"Okay, well," began the helmeted one when there was a very loud electronic
noise near by.
"Oh damn!" yelled a familiar looking figure running by cradling an assault
rifle.
"Head for the hills," yelled a second rushing by. This one was dressed
remarkably like a priest who'd punked out.
"Gang way! The green dorks are loose!" yelled a huge man. One arm of his combat
jacket was ripped off. In one hand he held a pistol. In the other a huge
knife covered with gore.
They disappeared off into the fog rapidly.
The woman, I, and the Man in Black looked at each other. They'd been the
ones who'd been slaughtering the "green dorks" before. It looks as if the
tables had turned.
"Um. Get in the boat," said the helmeted one. His companion clambered in ahead
of us and picked up the oars. I was amazed how we could walk right up to
the boat and once we were in, it rocked like it was on an ocean. As
soon as we were aboard, the one with the green streaked teeth began rowing
with astonishing speed and strength. The boat seemed to zip along. Behind us
we could see grey alien heads advancing on us. They looked very
angry. Many toted boxy weapons which they began to make
adjustments on and aim in our direction.
The boat gave a lurch. I thought we'd been hit by something.
"Ohhellnowlookwhatouswutthingmattressheadclutchbutthasdone!" yelled the
helmeted on. He stood up suddenly rocking the boat badly. His helmet with
the bobbing globes fell off into the fog and disappeared. He pointed at the
green rope that served as an anchor cable. It was drawn taunt keeping the
boat from any further progress.
"Do something!" wailed the woman. The greys seemed to grasp what was going
on. About fifty grabbed the green rope and began to reel us in like a hooked
fish. The our rower snarled and the boat surged forward again as he
applied even more strength. Then, one of the oars snapped. Bits of it tumbled
off into the fog.
"Oops," said the rower standing up and tossing the other oar over the side.
He began to fiddled with his massive motor cycle boots. They clicked and
beeped. Little lights on them glowed.
"Look. Hold on. We'll just cut the line," said the other. From under his toga
he produced of long barreled, vicious looking ray gun. Carefully, he aimed at
the rope where it touched the gunwale. He pulled the trigger. Several feet
of rope disappeared. So did most of the gunwale underneath the rope. The
boat began to fill with green fog and sink.
The greys seeing this, charged forward.
"Idiots," muttered the man with the ray gun. He sighted down the barrel and
squeezed the trigger again. A whole column of greys evaporated as if a
tunnel had suddenly been driven through them. Still they swarmed forward
like hungry ants. The man fired again. More greys disappeared and still
others came to take their place.
"Abandon ship," said the former rower leaping daintily over the side an onto
the fog which seemed to be once again a solid surface. The rest of us
followed with less dignity except the man with the gun who continued to
fire at the greys mowing them down like wheat. No matter how many he
evaporated twice as many would take their place. By the time he was waist
deep in the fog, he realized he was sinking and some how half clambered out
of the fog and the boat.
"This is embarrassing," he muttered fiddling with his ray gun.
"Look, let's just run okay," suggested his companion. Suiting action to
words he began pelting off into the fog. I looked at the Man in Black and
then raced after the guy. The Man in Black
and the woman followed.
The other stood there firing and fiddling with is ray gun. "I'm sure if I
get the right setting I'll have this all licked," he muttered under his
breath.
The fog grew thicker as we ran. Soon we couldn't see anything, but we
continued. Behind us we could hear the greys swarming and now the
occasionally noise of their weird boxy weapons going off. I doubted the man
would survive.
"In here!" yelled the guy I was following. He suddenly stopped and gave me
a push. I went tumbling through the fog rolling over and over until
suddenly I was rolling on a wood floor. My two companions came tumbling
after me. The Man in Black looking very alarmed at having his dignity
upset by the tumble.
I looked up and saw a sign. "Possum Hole Mystery Spot," it said.
"Don't move. I'll be back in a bit. If you do, I'll rip your faces off!"
order the man with the green streaked teeth, his head suddenly poking out
of thin air. "I need to go grab Halrod. Hang on."
His head disappeared. We heard him running off his pounding boots fading.
The three of us stood up and dusted ourselves off.
"Howdy," said an old woman suddenly appearing through a rickety door way.
She was hastily wiping her hands on an apron. "I expect yer here to see the
mystery spot."
"You do not see us," began the Man in Black in a very menacing tone.
"Oh yeah we are," I said stepping in front of him and elbowing him in the
ribs.
Meanwhile in the other dimension:
"Now see here Spode, I'm the head god! This is my story. You've got to
really do something about these plot complications!" said a very angry
Otis wagging a divine finger as storm clouds and lightning bolts formed
around his head.
Spode cringed and looked up from the comic book he was glancing through.
"But it's appearing in the magazine named after me," he pointed out.
"Well everyone knows it's the mast head of the OTISian religion!"
"Well it's named after me, so keep your shirt on. Give it a bit."
"Hey he's kinda perdy," said a small demented looking young woman with buck
teeth and fish eyes peering out from behind her mother. The young woman
clutched to her chest a sheet of bubbled packing material with half the
bubbles popped.
"Hush now Gasoline. Go back to popping you bubblies,"
said the her mother, the old woman, making shooing
gestures with her hands.
"Aw gee maw! You promised," said another young fish eyed girl with buck
teeth sticking her head out from behind her sister. She too clutched some
packing material to her chest. It seemed like they'd been popping it when
we'd popped in out of the twilight dimension.
"Hey me too! I could use me a woman! I'm old enough! Shucks if they get
married I get married too!" said a young burly man, also with fish eyes and
bucked teeth who stuck his head out from behind the second sister.
The woman who had originally greeted us turned and began to yell at her very
inbred looking children. From the conversation I gathered their names were
Gasoline, Vasoline and Festus Jr.
As they continued to argue, out of thin air dropped one of the two from the
rowboat. It was the one with the toga who'd lost his helmet. He stood
up looking very angry and seeing us said, "Excuse me a moment. We're trying
to teach those little puddybutts a lesson." Before we could say anything he
stepped back into nothingness as he pulled a peculiar looking grenade from
his pocket. From the direction of where he disappeared came a muffled
explosions and an extraordinarily amount of strange language I took to be
cursing. The mother and her kids were so involved in their argument, they
hadn't noticed his appearance. Now instead of yelling at each other they
seemed to be whispering
in a most conspiratorial way.
There was another muffled explosion and suddenly a black eight ball like
object rolled out of thin air. It was an alien eye. It hit the floor with a
loud pop bursting like a light bulb. Hastily I and the Man in Black
stepped over to stand on the broken eye hoping others would not see what
had just happened. I don't think she would have taken to kindly to knowing
that their mystery spot was actually real.
"What the heck was that?" asked the mother again wiping her hands on her
apron. Turning to her children: "Now you children go play like maw told
ya." She gave them a big wink. Something was definitely afoot.
"Is it my imagination or are they plotting something," ask the woman. She
came over to stand next to use, her booted feet crunching on the remains of
the grey's eyeball.
"Perhaps we should step back into the zone," suggested the Man in Black.
Then shook his head as another muffled explosion seemed to come from thin
air.
"Oh nothing," I said to the woman. I could tell she wasn't believing me.
"Lan sakes I hear a lot of thunder," said added going over to a window and
looking up into the clear blue sky.
"Maybe we're in for a spot of rain," I observed helpfully. The woman in the
trench coat poked me in the ribs with annoyance.
"So you want a tour?" asked the old woman. A look of cunning was in her
eyes. I looked at my companions.
"I don't want my face ripped off. Let's stay here," hissed the woman in the
trench coat.
"You mind if we just look around ourselves a little while? We've never seen
a rustic house like this before," I asked.
"Sure nuff. I'll just be over in the kitchen if you needs me now. Don't run
off, hear, without saying good bye." With that, the old woman departed giving us
another cunning look.
"I hope they get back soon," said the woman with the trench coat. She
shuffled her feet crunching more glass like alien eye.
"They may not," observed the Man in Black, meaning all the explosions and
noise that keep coming out of thin air.
"Well we could just walk off. We could hitch a ride back to where the
Submarine is," I suggested, feeling the letter vibrated slightly in my
pocket. We seemed to be wasting an awful lot of time gallivanting around the
dimensions. I had a valentine to deliver to Otis.
"You you could just step in and take the Valentine now," observed Spode
from behind his comic.
"No that would never do," said Otis, who wrung her hands. It was very
tempting to him. "This is supposed to teach some sort of lesson like
"Pilgrim's Progress". We'll just have to see this out."
The Man in Black gave a sort of cough I took for a laugh. "Have you ever
considered that this may not really be earth, but a parallel world?"
"Oops. No," I said.
"Parallel World!" wailed the woman. "First I'm piloting this flying saucer.
Then suddenly in there's this fog bank. Then you two show up and seem to be
walking on air and kill those bozo's I'm chauffeuring. Then, those two in the
boat show up and now this. I very confused."
"Good job Spode," muttered Otis grudgingly from his Morris Chair. Spode
smiled in triumph, his eyes twinkling.
"I'm sort of confused myself," I said. We both looked at the Man in Black
for an explanation.
"I cannot tell you the answer. Your ears are not ready to hear it," he
intoned stiffly.
"He doesn't know either," I said out the corner of my mouth to the woman.
"Hey handsome," said Gasoline rushing into the room. She was done up in her
Sunday best gingham dress with new ribbons in her wheat color hair. Her
pony tails looked like two whisk brooms hanging off the sides of her head.
She grabbed my arm and leaned against me.
Vasoline tried the same trick on the Man in Black. He shrugged her off and
raised his hand. I could tell he was going to kill her.
"Hold it right there fella," said a voice from the window as a double
barreled shot gun poked through. The Man in Black froze. Vasoline wrapped
her arms around him happily.
Festus Jr. barged in followed by his mother and a number of men. He
grabbed the woman in the trench coat who kicked him in the shins hard. He
slugged her. She went down and he dragged her back up to her feet.
"Here now," said his mother. "That's you wife there. Hit her somewhere
where it won't show."
The rest of the men who entered the room held squirrel rifles or doubled
barreled shot guns. Strangely enough they all had fish eyes and buck teeth.
One even had a roll of bubble packing stuck in the pocket of his bibb
overalls. Among them was a priest. He was taller than the others and wore
an old stove people hat. He probably was the local undertaker as well.
"Now you folks behave yourself. We're fixing to marry the lot of you!"
warned the mother pointed a twisted finger at us. She'd dressed up herself
in an old ratty dress that looks like birds had been sleeping in it.
The woman in the trench coat started to struggle again. Festus Jr. slugged
her again. Gasoline gave me a slobbering kiss on the neck. Drool ran down
my collar. I shuddered, but I didn't dare move. There were too many shot
guns pointed at me. In fact, if they opened fire on us, they'd have probably
ended up wounding some of their own number. They didn't seem too bright.
"I cannot marry," intoned the Man in Black. His normally pale skin was even
paler.
"Oh he's so cute," babbled Vasoline who imitated her sister and gave the
Man in Black a slobbering kiss on his label. Drool glinted and left a slimy
trail, dripping to the floor.
I felt like throwing up. This was probably worse than if we'd ended up in
Nightmare Alley. We could only hope the two in the rowboat would get back
to us fast. I doubted it. The explosions were continuing.
Without much further ado, they lined the three of us up with our mates.
Another man helped hold the woman in the trench coat up. She was near
unconsciousness with the blows she's received. Festus Jr. Beamed
proudly. Gasoline and Vasoline gave me and the Man in Black another horrible
kiss. The preacher in the stove pipe hat stepped forward, cleared his
throat, and began his little spiel. We appeared to be doomed.
####===================================================================####
A Visit to the Doctor
####===================================================================####
Subject: A Visit to the Doctor[.el]
Date: Fri, 07 Feb 92 22:35:18 -0500
From: "Sam Hill Cabal, DS" <tsdavies@mailbox.syr.edu>
I am the psychotherapist. Please, describe your problems. Each time
you are finished talking, type RET twice.
I can't hear properly.
Why do you say you cannot hear properly?
Because I cannot hear in my right ear.
Is it because you cannot hear in your right ear that you came to me?
Yes, it is.
Earlier you said you cannot hear in your right ear?
Yes, I did.
Maybe your plans have something to do with this.
No, I don't believe so.
Is it because of your life that you say you do not believe so?
No, it is not.
You mentioned that you cannot hear in your right ear?
Yes, I did.
Is it because of the people you hang around with that you are going
through all this?
No, I don't believe so.
What makes you believe you do not believe so?
I's just what I believe.
Are you sure that you cannot hear in your right ear?
Yes, quite sure.
How do you reconcile problems at school?
I don't, luckily for me, I no longer attend school.
Tell me about your school.
Sorry, I can't. As I said, I don't attend school.
Does it bother you that your grades could improve?
Please re-read my previous statements, Doctor.
Is it because of any hobbies you have that you say re read your
previous statements doctor?
No, I don't think so. Is English your native language, Doctor?
Earlier you said you cannot hear in your right ear?
Yes, I believe I did. What are you going to do about it?
Perhaps this has something to do with your sex life?
No. Very doubtful.
Do you really think very doubtful?
No, I think you're a pretty poor listener.
You mentioned that you cannot hear in your right ear?
Yes. So we're back to that again.
Can you elaborate on that?
Sure. No sound is audible in my right ear.
Possibly hangups you have are related to this.
No. I think it's a medical problem.
Is it because of your inhibitions that you say you think it's a
medical problem?
What inhibitions? Where are you getting this from, Doctor?
What makes you think you cannot hear in your right ear?
No sound comes in. Okay?
I would appreciate it if you would continue.
Really, Doctor, I'm not at all sure this is worthwhile.
Is it because of some problems in your childhood that you are going
through all this?
No. I already told you I believe it's a medical problem.
Why do you say that?
Because it's a physical manifestation of a blockage of my eustachian tube.
Are you annoyed that it's a physical manifestation of a blockage of
your eustachian tube?
Of course I am. I can't hear!
Earlier you said you cannot hear in your right ear?
*sigh* Yes, Doctor.
How do you reconcile some problems at home?
No, Doctor. I think you need to do some tests, and prescribe some medication.
What makes you believe I might want to do this test?
Well, frankly, Doctor, I don't really care if you do any tests or not.
I'm going to complain about you to my insurance company, and possibly
to the Board of Medical Quality Assurance.
I don't understand.
Well, when they rip up your license, toss you in a cell, and throw
away the key, maybe you'll understand then.
What happened when they rip up my license toss me in a cell and throw
away the key maybe I shall understand then?
Good bye, Doctor.
You mentioned that it's a physical manifestation of a blockage of your
eustachian tube?
*walks out door*
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sam Hill Cabal, DS tsdavies@mailbox.syr.edu
"It don't matter, Sail, ... Could be worse. The fam'ly might be donatin' the
proceeds to the Cath'lic Church, or the Mormons or somethin'. One cult's the
same as another." -- Lula Pace Ripley, in "Consuelo's Kiss".
####===================================================================####
News of the Weird
####===================================================================####
[Yet another person jumps aboard the NOTW wagon.]
Date: Sun, 9 Feb 1992 19:10 -0500
From: ICMX500@INDYVAX.IUPUI.EDU
Subject: Re: Skiny Puppy Sample List
I came across these strange news reports, all un-attributed. I compiled
them, cleaned them up, and sending them to you. I sense some definite
Otisian influence in these reports.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Charles Lucas, 41, was sentenced to eight months
in jail last year in Princenton Ill., for hurling several beehives
through the window of Neuf's tavern in Setonville. A Beekeeper had to
be found to chase down the bees.
*********************************
A Track superintendent in Wales, Wis., said
that a high school teacher last year used a track starting pistol to
get the attention of her class when it became rowdy.
***********************************
Gene and Joyce White were convicted of a
misdemeanor in MArch in Muskogee, Okla., for keeping their young grandson
confined to a dirt floored pen in their yard, adjacent to a pen that
contained 60 dogs. They said they did it to keep him out of traffic.
Authorities found that the boy drooled, panted and barked, just like the
dogs, but a baby sitter said he probably learned that behavior from
watching too much TV.
*************************************
Wealthy Brazilians, exasperated at the
phenomenal increase in crime by the growing poverty sector, have taken
to keeping lions to guard their homes. In one San Paulo condominium
development, after a lion almost ATE a burglar alive in April, crime
dropped from 15 incidents a month to none.
**************************************
For 732 criminal counts of driving his VW Beetle
across neighbors' yards in Torrence, Calif., Jonathan Shane
Allabaugh,21, was ordered by Municipal Judge Benjamin Aranda to leave
town. If he ever returned, Aranda said he would put him in jail for "up
to" 275 years.
**************************************
Boynton Beach, Fla. police charged Mary Greico,
48, and her daughter with the murder of Mary's husband,Joe,52, because
he was "miserable" and wanted to watch TV all of the time. Mary said
they tried to kill Joe several times via poison and contemplated a car
explosion as well. They tried several time in the last month to shoot him
while he lay snoring in front of the TV, but chickened out,
until the night of Aug, 9th. Said Mary :" He was a miserable bastard,
but he had his good points too." Mary reported the shooting as a
suicide, but police were suspicious because suicidal people don't
take naps before trying to kill themselves.
************************************
KENNETH Dean Johnson, the first person to
have his car seized under a 1990 Portland Ore. drunk-driving
ordinance, was stopped again in February and lost another car. At the
second stop, he voluntarily produced a vial of white powder, telling
police it was heroin, which he was using in an attempt to kick his
11-year old drunk-driving problem.
************************************
BIRMINGHAM Ala. police responding in April to
a woman's plea to save her estranged boyfriend, who was threatening suicide
in her apartment, broke in and shot and killed the man ( when he failed to
drop his suicide pistol).
************************************
BRUCE Fitgerald was appointed Harbormaster
of Springfield, Mass., in February. Because of the changes in the flow
of the Connecticut River, Springfield no longer has a harbor and is
down to a single dock.
************************************
IN October, the Pittsfield, Mass., School
Committee adopted a plan to allow 11th and 12th graders to get credit for
mandatory physical education classes merely by reading materials on
exercise concepts.
*************************************
A 40 year old woman's suicide attempts
failed in Pineville,La., in August. She first tried a drug
overdose, but wound up only groggy enough to misfire her pistol in
several attempts to shoot herself.
**************************************
FEDERAL Agents arrested Gary and David Gross of
Alpharetta, Ga., in April for attempting to counterfeit $4.5 million
with a printing job described by agents as "poor", done on an offset
press. The agents were tipped off by a store owner, who said the two had
bought the linen paper used in currency and then asked the owner if he
had any GREEN ink that "matched the ink on a one dollar bill."
**************************************
PARENTS of three 12 and 13 year-olds
filed a lawsuit in Lafayette, La., in March, charging seventh-grade
science teacher Bernadette Rubin with causing the kids "Loss of
enjoyment of life" by teaching sex education in class.
*************************************
UTAH prison inmate Robert LeRoy Ele, serving
10 to 15 years for sexual abuse of a child, filed a $6 million lawsuit
against Ed McMahon and Publishers Clearinghouse in February for
their failure to send him sweepstakes entry blanks. A
Publishers Clearinghouse lawyer said it was the prisons fault for not
permitting bulk mail to be delivered to inmates.
************************************
DANIEL Johnson, serving a life sentence in
Texas' Huntsville prison for a 1977 rape, filed a $50,000 lawsuit
against the prison in August to force officials to curb excessive noise
from late-night TV in prison lounges. Johnson claimed "deprivations of needed rest and sleep, nervous tension, severe anxiety,
feelings of depression, dejection, fatigue, emotional pain and
torment, and headaches.
*************************************
IN July a New York appeals court upheld
Celestino Lucas' 1983 trial court verdict against the New York Transit
Authority. Lucas had leaped onto the subway tracks and lay
spread-eagled across them briefly but then tried to get up as a train
entered the station. He sued the Transit Authority because the
engineer was not able to stop the train in time, resulting in
Lucas' loosing both legs below the knee. Under the trial court's
formula, Lucas would win $600,000.
************************************
THE Idaho Supreme Court ruled against Thomas
Sweltzer in August in his lawsuit for wrongful discharge from work.
He had claimed he was unfairly fired from his job as a gravedigger in a
small town because he had become depressed at the growing number
of his friends that he had to bury.
*************************************
THE Assistant district Attorney general in
Nashville, Floyd Price, summed the case in August against Barbara
Trapp, convicted of the murder of her newborn son:" You can't just go
around throwing babies down trash shutes, putting them in garbage
cans, and flushing them down commodes. That is not appropriate
behavior in this society."
************************************
HONOLULU Mayor Frank Fasi, in a July letter
replying to a Philadelphia police officer who had complained of seeing
drunks, drugs and prostitutes on his recent vacation in Honolulu: "You
are entitled to your opinion, but as far as I am concerned, you can
go to Hell! Take your complaints, and shove them up your big fat
nose."
**************************************
BOBBY Pringle, in his "last words" before
sentencing by a Prince George's County,MD, judge in July (having been
convicted of killing his disabled mother by stabbing her more than 70
times), said whatever sentence he got wouldn't matter to him "because
I lost my mother."
=-=-=-=-=-==-=-==-=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Hail Otis!
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
! !
! ICMX500@indyvax.iupui.edu *Wisdom is knowing that you know what !
! ICMX500@indycms.iupui.edu what you know, and knowing what you !
! do not know. !
! Matthew Greenwood !
! 1102 N. Lynhurst Dr. Voice: (317)248-2018 !
! Speedway, IN 46224 FAX: (317)243-9600 !
! USA *R.W.Emerson !
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
####===================================================================####
The Accident
####===================================================================####
[Rumor has it Otis may have been in one of the cars.]
Date: 10 Feb 92 10:11:00 EST
From: "Wombat" <HILLV@vax001.kenyon.edu>
Subject: NOTW
From: VAX001::WINS%"vhill@math08.gatech.edu" 10-FEB-1992 09:10:43.22
[headers deleted]
This is CLASSIC:
Just as the Choir was beginning warm-up at 8:30 for the first service (it
will be 8:15 when you're here!), one of the other tenors came in and said,
"Cheryl's been in an accident just up the street. She looks fine, because
she's standing beside the car, but the car is pretty badly banged up."
There seemed to be nothing that any of us could do, so we went ahead with
the rehearsal and started the service. Just after the processional hymn,
Cheryl slipped in the side door and into the stalls. It occurred to me
that this was rather quick to take care of police reports, towing, and
getting down the street to All Saints, but at least Cheryl didn't look too
upset.
After the service the story came out. Cheryl's car was not involved -- she
managed to swerve in time to avoid being hit, but she was a witness. The
car that was hit was occupied by an older couple on their way to First
Baptist -- neither of them injured. But what plowed into them was a big,
long white limousine (of the sort that people hire for weddings and proms)
-- it was currently operating as a rolling prostitution service, and it was
IN OPERATION at the time of the accident!
####===================================================================####
Quote
####===================================================================####
Date: 10 Feb 92 11:10:00 EST
From: "Wombat" <HILLV@vax001.kenyon.edu>
Subject: quote
"Most home projects are impossible, which is why you should do them yourself.
There is no point in paying other people to screw things up when you can easily
screw them up yourself for far less money."
-Dave Barry
####===================================================================####
911
####===================================================================####
Subject: I _love_ this joke!
Date: Thu, 13 Feb 92 02:20:49 -0500
From: "Sam Hill Cabal, DS" <tsdavies@mailbox.syr.edu>
Newsgroups: rec.humor.funny
>From: michaelc@oz.plymouth.edu (Mike Clark)
Subject: SCRIPT I (fwd)
Keywords: chuckle
>From ginger::ginger::mrgate::"a1::michaelc" Thu Dec 26 17:10:48 1991
>From: NAME: Michael J. Clark
FUNC: Security
TEL: (603)535-2330 <MICHAELC AT A1 AT GINGER>
To: michaelc@oz@mrgate
Author: Michael J. Clark
AUTOMATION IN THE 20th CENTURY
By Michael J. Clark
The setting is a typical bedroom, a woman is in the bed asleep,
next to her bed is a night stand with an alarm clock and a
telephone. Suddenly the woman awakens to the sound of a strange
noise in the house, she looks around, starts to panic and then
picks up her phone to call the police.
Woman: (Startled and panicked, talking out loud to herself in a
low tone) "I-I-I-I've got to call the police, there's someone
here, oh God I know there is, let's see...what's the number,
(she nervously punches the numbers into the phone.)
After a few rings the phone is answered, there is a delay, then
we hear: "Welcome to our emergency phone mate 911, the automated
emergency answering system, the latest in emergency response
technology! If you are calling from a touch tone phone, please
enter a 1 at the tone, enter now"......(the woman looks both
shocked and puzzled as she nervously punches in a "1") "Thank
you, our emergency phone mate 911 recognizes that you are
calling from a touch tone phone......To serve you better your
police and emergency services have set up this system to route
your call to the appropriate emergency service personnel......If
you are in need of police assistance enter a 5, if you require
information in Spanish, enter 7, in Chinese enter 4, in Greek
enter 9, in French enter 6 or Italian enter an 8, if you wish
fire or medical service enter a 3 and the corresponding
numerical code for the language in which you will be speaking or
in need of translation......to repeat the previous information
please enter 0.......Enter your code now please"......(the
woman, who has now gone from fear and panic to being irritated
and confused enters a 5 and waits.....) "Emergency phone mate
911 recognizes that you have requested police assistance in
English....In order to better serve you, please enter the
appropriate number at the tone....a 1 if your call is not an
emergency, a 2 if you need information, a 3 if you are
returning a call from a police official, a 4 if you are
inquiring about a parking ticket, or a 5 if this is an
emergency, enter your code now"........(she shakes her head and
rolls her eyes and enters a 5 quite forcefully) "Emergency phone
mate 911 recognizes that you have a police emergency, please
enter a 1 if it is a life threatening emergency, a 2 if it is a
non life threatening emergency, a 3 if there are weapons
involved, a 4 if there are multiple perpetrators, a 5 if the
perpetrators are non English speaking and will require a Miranda
warning in any other language....Please be sure to enter the
appropriate language code if you enter a 5....if the police
emergency is a non life threatening rape or physical assault
please enter a 7.......
(the woman now has lost her temper, she punches in a 2 saying
out loud "How the hell do I know if it's life threatening or not
you imbecile!) "Emergency phone mate 911 recognizes that you
have a police emergency that is non life threatening, emergency
phone mate will now direct your call to the appropriate
department for response.....please hold while your call is
transferred.....(we hear ringing......, the phone is answered)
"Dunkin Donuts, may I help you?" ........
####===================================================================####
THEENDTHEENDTHEENDTHEENDTHEENDTHEENDTHEENDTHEENDTHEENDTHEENDTHEENDTHEENDTHE
####===================================================================####
-- Subink 1992
