Tripe #8 Just 3 good articles
Tripe Issue Eight - September 24th, 2002
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- Rainy Day Thingz - by B&N
- Portrait of the Cog as a Young Cog - Cog
- Santa Claus and The North Pole Army vs Poseidon's Agents - BMC and Komrade B
Some times you just have 3 articles that are so good that you don't need to put any more in. Some zines do this often, we have seen it. Just ask everyone. When it comes to literature you need goodness. TRIPE.
Enjoy your magazine.
Rainy Day Thingz
by B&N
This is our list of things we like to do on a rainy day, and there are plenty of those here in London. It is not intended to be a top ten list, or anything humourous. Keep in mind that it is a big step for us to go into this detail about our personal lives. This is just the way we are, so please don't criticize our ways.
- Buy umbrella
- Have a friend waiting on the roof of a building across from an old folks home
- Burn old folks home down
- Have friend snipe old people
- Have other friend dressed up like fireman go in burning building and kill other old people
- Write letter to Sara
- Cut lawn
- Run with scissors
- Dig a hole for 4 hours, fill the hole back up for the next 4 hours (approx)
- Collect pop bottles (bring a friend to hold umbrella)
- Throw bottles from balcony onto old people in cars
- Take bananas from outside so they don't get wet
- Put bananas under a heat lamp
- Eat bananas
- Save banana peels for a sunny day
- Eat an old man's brain
- Fix holes in socks
- Make a puzzle
- Solve a caper
- Go to Penguin Park and go on the Zipper
PORTRAIT OF THE COG AS A YOUNG COG
by: Cog
Hi, folks. I was a little strapped for ideas for a new article, and BMC is cracking the whip double-time. I thought I'd be living in a heating grate before too long, so I think I may have come up with something that will save my "model-esque" physique from turning dark grey as a result of the cold.
As of this writing, I've been working on the new N-Com website, which should be up by the time you read this (if BMC actually includes this tome of knowledge in an issue). I re-read all of the old N-Com Installments while I was making the new "Archives", and I think I've realized what I've been doing wrong. I'll list the articles, give an excerpt, and then I'll tell you what I did wrong. Come on an' JUDGE IT WITH ME.
ANN LANDERS
By Cog
**never published**
Here's the main thing wrong with this one:
Volume in drive C is MAIN FOLDER
Volume Serial Number is 2465-15E1
Directory of C:\COM
LANDERS COG 78 02-12-98 4:29pYep. It's only seventy-eight (78) bytes. So here's the article in it's entirety:
Ann Landers is an old bitch. So sue me.
There's the end. I could argue that since this was the first article I'd completed, I hadn't hit my stride yet. I could say that, but I STILL haven't hit my stride. Also, I started another article that same day that turned out almost fairly decent...
MODERN CONVENIENCE
By Cog
Well, this is when I was working for Ralph's Confectioneries. I think something must have pissed me off that day, because this article seems fairly bitter (although not as bitter as the ones to come).
I don't mind this one too much, other than the fact that I've read it over at least 50 times while doing the layout for it in the print magazine. I do have some problems with some of the lines in it, though. For example:
"...it is a well documented fact that over 64.9% of all customers at convenience stores are, in fact, pedophiles. See for yourself how many people leave the stores with children)."
I really have a problem with that "64.9%" thing. I thought it was a funny way of saying 65%, but it seems like the rock that encrusts the gold brought out 'the mineshaft.
BOUNCERS OR DRONES
By Cog
The saddest thing about this whole article is that it is an absolutely true story. Well, except for the part with the gunshots, the disintegrating phone, and the bionic arm. But we really did lock our keys in the car.
I remember not being able to figure out a way to end the story, so I quickly finished it up with the action sequence. It seems Hollywood uses this same technique. I do like the last line, though:
"Then someone asked us for i.d....."
I like the horror-story endings, and there's one that I've been trying to work into an article for a long time. Don't worry, you'll know it when you see it.
MY CHILDHOOD
By Cog
I love the poem I came up with for this one! I'm having it tatooed on my face for Washington's Birthday, by the way. There's actually some symbolism in this one, and even I don't fully understand it all. Not many negative things to say about this one, other than the fact that this was another case of writing a quick ending. Could you tell? I think it came out fairly well, for once.
*FUN FACT!* Did you notice I replaced all the "ed"'s with an "'d"?
A POSSIBLE EDITOR'S COLUMN WITH GUEST WRITER
By Cog
My one and only attempt to get into the coveted "Editor's Note". I think it worked out well. The reason it was my only attempt was that I've never had anything to say before or since.
The "era of long distance writing" didn't actually last too long, so I'm glad I wrote this while I did.
THE HERRING INCIDENT
By Cog
I really meant to put the year in there for "Clue", but I forgot to do that before I submitted it. I hope my shortcomings are funny to you. Well, I guess it's okay this way, too.
This article stemmed from watching the movie "Clue" (where they say the bit about Communism and the red herring 4 times, I think), and after having begun, not remembering whether herrings were birds or fish. I now believe that there are both birds AND fish called herrings, but I don't care to find out. So, basically this article is a feature-length excuse.
LIFESTYLES OF THE RICH IN SPIRIT
By Cog
THIS is where I got bitter. I finished this article less than a week after I lost my job at Ralph's. It's a fairly humourless article, unless you enjoy laughing at my shortcomings; and I hope you do. I prefer the second part to this one. There's one part in this one, though, that's pretty strong:
"...and I definitely don't miss those assholes I worked for. Fuck you, Ralph Winterhalt, et family. Especially you, Rebecca Winterhalt, you whore of a manageress. I'll bet you were really a man. Sick."
Isn't hindsight 20/20? In one way, I wish I hadn't named names, but then again, I still hope they see it someday. I hear that the Rebecca mentioned above is in Calgary now, so if you're reading this and you know her, show her that line. Then bust her in the chops.
MECHANNIA!
By Cog
What a cool sounding title. This is another sad one, because it's absolutely true. What's worse is that I wrote that article at the beginning of September, the car went into the garage at the end of July, I still don't have it back, and it's THE END OF DECEMBER NOW!! We're going on six months, now.
I may have started to hit some sort of "stride" with this article...
LIFESTYLES OF THE RICH IN SPIRIT II : ELECTRIC BUGALOO
By Cog
This is one of my favourites. As you can tell, I started writing it in the same style as the first "Lifestyles" article. The beginning and ending are the same as they were originally written; however, the dialogue section was actually originally written to suit that feel, with the pauses in conversation between "TELLER" and myself filled with uncomfortable silences and glaring. "TELLER" also originally tore into me when he found out that I was cashing an Unemployment cheque. I'm glad I changed it, even if I did use the cliche "baby-delivery" and "put the president on hold" things at the end.
Also, the reason I picked the name "Amy" was because it contained three letters just like the other names. I couldn't think of a three-letter word for Bank Manager, however. Maybe I should have used "ass"...?
IF I REVIEWED MOVIES, AND IF I WAS ALSO STUPID
By Cog
I wish there was a better way to convey sarcasm in text besides those stupid "emoticons". I think the title says it all, though. Can you tell I don't like Jim Carrey very much? It's just something about the way I am; I think the moment you start playing with your ass cheeks, you should start playing with loaded guns.
This basically sprung out of reading about the re-make of "How the Grinch Stole Christmas". I mean, there's no way it can compare to the original, so why bother? Also, I'm still pissed that Fuckface Carrey landed the role in the Kaufman bio-pic; I would have much rather seen Nicholas Cage star in it, since he at least RESEMBLES Andy Kaufman. Oh, well.
*FUN FACT!* If you haven't seen Blues Brothers 2000... DON'T!
I LIKE THE WORD "ABOLISH"
By Cog
I think this pretty much sums up this article:
"Sometimes you just need a premise. A premise, no matter how sad, is still a premise. And it should be treated as such..."
I'm not too fond of most of this article. The lists went through nearly 10 complete re-writes each. I don't know why I even tried writing a "top 10" type thing, anyways. They rarely turn out well. Watch Letterman for proof of that.
If I had to do the "Reader's Digest Condensed" version of this article, it would basically consist of this:
THE ABOLITION ARTICLE
by: Cog
"Jesus Wept"
-The Bible
This is an unoriginal premise, and it should be treated as such...
What would the abolitionists do away with nowadays...?
Things that should be abolished:
- 5. Chris Farley's dead body
- 7. Music
- 9. Abolitionists who try to abolish other abolitionists (enough east coast-west coast bullshit, you guys)
- 10. The environment
But what would abolitionists bring back...?
Things that should be UN-abolished:
- 2. Channel 1
- 3. Saturday Night Live '80
- 4. Greek gods, and some of the Roman ones (YOU decide!)
- 5. The Norse Valkyries
- 6. Alchohal
- 9. Raheem the Dream
- 10. RATT, who should then be violently abolished again, then murdered
If you would like to learn more about the subject of ABOLITION, there are many informative books at your local lending library. If you're interested in finding abolitionists near you, check your local Yellow Pages under the heading "Abolition", or call our worldwide hotline number at 1-888-ABOLISH. Every sixth caller has a chance at winning tickets to see Krokus live in concert! So if it's busy, keep trying!
...What can I say; I like the last paragraph. Also, I should explain that "Channel 1" reference. I'm talking about Channel 1 on a TV set, which seems to have mysteriously disappeared; probably having been commandeered by The Icelandic Wermacht.
UNLUCKY THIRTEEN
By Cog
I'm still not sure if I like this one or not. I mean, it has a twist ending (sort of), and I think it's funny in a strange way. Okay, I think I like it now... but can I be sure?
My favourite days are 4, 5, 6, 9, 11, and 13. I suppose I could have cut the story in half and called it "Unlucky Seven" (which still sounds good), but it seems I lack any semblance of foresight. Also, I finally used my favourite ending line ever: "THE LIVING END". It's from "Batman: The Movie"(1966). See it if you haven't.
Try and put day number 7 out of your mind, by the way...
RON HOWARD + JEREMY - HOWARD = RON JEREMY
By Cog
This article was originally titled:
"RON JEREMY + RON HOWARD = RON RON JEREMY HOWARD - RON HOWARD = RON JEREMY"
...but BMC said it wouldn't fit. Nearly everything in this article is true. In fact, everything but the "Caroline in the City" info is true. It's an interesting experience looking for info on Ron Jeremy on the web. I had to sift through a Hungarian page to get alot of the info for this one. The sad part about that is that I don't know of any software that translates Hungarian, so I did it myself. I think congratulations are in order.
Once again, here was a case of not knowing how to end an article. Apparently in the throes of madness, I chose a lame joke as the closer. I had run out of information, and had nothing left. I suppose I could have drawn an ascii picture of Ron, or perhaps I could have mentioned MoOn mOnsTarz or Zombies (which seem to be disturbingly under-represented in my writings). Ah, well.. It's some of the most extensive info on Ron's life that you'll ever find in one place, so deal with it.
And Now,
My "Gladiator Monkeys"
For those of you not in the know, we measure The N-Com articles on an ever-varying chart. It goes something like this:
Platinum, Gold, Silver, Copper, Tin, Lead, Peanut Butter, and finally...
"Gladiator Monkeys"
It's named after an article by Physicon (Phillgay), assisted by Gnarly Wayne. It's a story which has all the logic of a waking dream brought on by the scarlet fever. It holds about as much joy for the person unfoutunate enough to read it, too.
I have no idea why I'm including this here (perhaps because, as I've mentioned, I have no foresight), or why I wrote it in the first place. I guess it will stand here as a reminder of how NOT to write.
So without further ado, here is a composition which will never be published on its own. I give you...
THE BOY WHO HATED TIME
By Cog
This is the story of the little boy who hated time. It's a story you've probably heard many times before, but I'd like to regale you with this retelling, anyways...
One day, little Gerald McPete awoke to find that something had happened while he had been sleeping: Time had passed. Not just a minute or two, either, but hours! Little Gary didn't like this at all.
"Grant! Time for breakfast," his mother called up the stairs.
"Mom! I hate time," George called down the stairs.
Greg's mother then promptly marched up the stairs and beat him within an inch of his life with a 1/2" PVC pipe.
"I'm gonna fucking kill you!!!" Gepetto shouted. He exclaimed this with such force that bits of throat were flying out of his mouth!
"Step up and we can go round and round," his mom calmly stated.
FIGHT SCENE
WIDE SHOT
G. steps up to mother. Looks her in the eye. We can sense the tension between them here.
We see a TIGHT SHOT of G.'s eyes... unwavering. Camera pans down to his watch. Camera pulls back quickly and shows G. taking off his watch with disgust. In SLOW MOTION he throws the watch into his mother's mouth. Still in SLOW MOTION, she begins to chew it.
Shot from ABOVE the scene, G. on the right. No longer in SLOW-MO. All is dark, save for a single spot lite on the scene. G. takes out a pre-WWI German handgun (This was given to him by Nero by means of time travel. This will be made clear in the sequel, and will also establish just why G. hates time. In the forthcoming prequels, this will be expanded on even more, as the story will be told in brief flashbacks in following movies; but the prequels will tell the story as it's happening.
Other possible ideas for consideration in either prequels or sequels have been to explore the reasons that G. is filled with so much hatred. Could it be that his father was murdered by the cast of a high-wire act?
...I have NO idea why I went into that script bullshit. I don't even know why I kept changing the kid's name every time it was mentioned. I DO know that I ran out of names, which is why he's simply called "G." in the script portion. I think this should have served to let me know it was a bad idea. This is as far as I wrote, since I realized that it was turning out, well, very badly. I was trying something different, and I vow never to do that again. I'll stick to the types of stories that I've been doing so far, I SWEAR! I can't apologize enough. BMC: if you need to edit something out for size, make this section your first candidate for cleaving.
Ahh, hell. Might as well critique THIS article.
PORTRAIT OF THE COG AS A YOUNG COG
By Cog
Looks like I STILL don't know how to end an article properly.
THE LIVING END
Santa vs Poseidon
History is emphasized in Atlantean schools. It is important that the youth are educated in the proud history of the great underwater kingdom. The stories usually involve the great monarchs, such as Uranus, Chronos, Poseidon, and Namor, but while tales of the victories of the kingdom are always in abundance, the talk of the dark days of Atlantis has classically been considered to be taboo. One reason for this is that the kings have generally not allowed anything that could be considered as damaging to the ideal of patriarchal infallibility. The other reason is that while the royal tales have been fairly well documented, the other stories have sketchy details and may not be completely factual. However, in recent years, with the throne falling into the strong arms of the most beloved king in Atlantean history, these tales have become part of the curriculum.
One of the incredible tales that has recently entered the schoolhouses is "Namor versus Santa." Some historians claim that the story is completely fabricated, but some give credit to it. The story begins in the last year of Namor's reign:
Through Namor's reign, he repeatedly proved himself to be a dishonor to Poseidon's legacy. He drank, lecherized, and had more cupbearers than was the norm at the time. He mismanaged the kingdom and the economy slowly drifted down toward bankruptcy. Though the economists were nervous and the advisors were furious, the people of the kingdom absolutely worshipped the drunken king. Namor was not concerned with the productivity of the guilds or the merchantry, and this disconcert was passed down through every strain of the industries.
Somewhere above the water existed a man of renown for being a generous giver of gifts. Though the land-dwellers claimed that he was a bearer of good things, he had never made an appearance in the underwater city of night. This aroused suspicion in the Atlanteans, and the suspicion grew into distrust. If he were so magical and so giving, why would he ignore the children of Atlantis' needs? Why didn't they ever get a stocking full of MooN trInKets? This was obvious racism, and eventually the Atlantean mobs grew to hate Santa Claus.
Santa Claus was a cruel old man who ran the world's largest factory run completely off of slave labor. The working conditions were unfair, hours were long, and disobedience was punished with physical discipline. Many of the elves died under Santa's merciless reign, and the survivors prayed for a merciful end to miserable life. One day, as an elven hunting group was out spear fishing, a seal swam up out of the water and told the elves that he was an Atlantean diplomat. As they gathered around and listened, the seal told them about the system of government in the underwater kingdom. He explained the complicated trade policies to them and they were all mystified. They listened to his information and anecdotes until the sun was down and it was too late to get any more fishing done.
As they went back toward the village the seal told them about King Namor, Poseidon, and Chronos, but when he told them about the fair working conditions of Atlantis they were truly impressed and many of them planned to defect to the fair city.
Realizing that there was nothing to eat that night, they were forced to kill and eat the diplomat. The next day the elves went to Santa Claus with news of the great Sea Bazaar that the seal had told them about. Aidan, the leader of the elves, convinced Santa that if he were appointed as a delegate to go to the bazaar he could turn a profit for the old overseer. Santa agreed, and Aidan took an entourage consisting of a 20-elf cross- section of the factory. Santa laughed out loud and schemed to himself, thinking about how much money there was to be made. There was a fortune in trinkets, and he was going to have it all!
Aidan had other ideas. He went to the sea capital with his followers and they never came back. They ended up getting jobs in the great Sea Bazaar, and they were finally appreciated. No longer having to hunt for their food, they became healthy and were accepted among the creatures of the sea just as the mooN monStars were after the first few years of hostility and the early attempt at ethnic cleansing. Aidan ended up moving in with a sea nymph named Dalila, and they had their first offspring, which happened to be a fire-child. Fire-children are rare in Atlantis, so they gave him the name of Ignatius, which means "fiery one."
When Aidan and his crew had been in Atlantis for a year, Santa sent more elves to look for him. These elves never returned either, so Santa sent a third group. This continued until he had lost a good 10 percent of his workers. Production levels at the North Pole were at an all time low, so the old man knew what he had to do. He put on his steel-toed boots and led his finest military units to the city of Atlantis.
It was a lazy spring afternoon in the underwater kindgom, and Namor had been spending the day reclining and drinking MooN colA. He called in the court performers to play string renditions of rock and roll songs. It was wonderful, and Namor laughed with delight. His bright blue eyes grew wide and he cocked his head until his crown tipped back on his head. He took the crown off and set it on the table next to his throne. As the effects of the mOon coLa set in, he felt himself becoming more knowledgeable. As he cracked open another shellful of it, the great doors of the courtroom burst open and standing there was a very very angry man in a red suit.
"How's it going, stinky?" asked Namor. "Ho Ho Ho not very fucking good, you piece of trash!" replied Santa. The news that Santa brought was very bad. First of all, he had formed an alliance with the MooN MonStarS, and second, he was imposing a trade embargo on Atlantis. This meant that the great Sea Bazaar would shortly be out of business and that Atlantis would be losing its chief source of income. After Santa delivered the news, Namor did not know how this would affect the kingdom, so he reiterated his first question. "So how's it going, stinky?"
Santa decided not to respond to that comment with words. Instead, he chose to answer with a hand gesture. He raised his hand slowly, very slowly. He felt the cool water current against his hand as he raised it to eye level, extending his middle finger and looking at Namor through it as though he a hunter looking at his prey through the crosshairs of his rifle.
There was silence.
Claus held his hand there, shifting his gaze from Namor to the raised digit. He had actually done it. As he realized the severity of his action, a bead of sweat formed on his forehead and was quickly swept away by the waters of the sea. He watched it float away, and then he turned to the audience of the court. The faces were frozen as though they had performed oral sex on a Gorgon. A maiden wept. Somewhere outside of the courtroom a man in a soiled shirt laughed out loud. The workers were too shaken to perform their duties and all of the institutions shut down.
Santa returned and rallied his armies. While he did that, the Mermaid Mafia was formed and they began to run wild in the streets and halls of Atlantis. Their game ran from selling drugs and prostitution to bootlegging, software piracy and producing homemade MIDI raps. The townsfolk feared them, but the morale in the Atlantean army was so low that it was basically just the Weegie Knight fighting by himself. He was tough and could break up a bar fight by himself, but there was no way he could be everywhere at once. He tried his best, but as time went on the conditions in Atlantis continued to deteriorate.
When Santa's forces finally struck, Atlantis was completely defenseless. The armies strolled through the cities and towns as Santa raped the women and plundered the treasuries. When he arrived at the throne room this time, Namor was engaged in some sexual deviant acts that are too lewd to talk about in this story. Santa was mildly amused, but after he was done masturbating he murdered Namor and usurped the throne of Atlantis.
So many Atlanteans committed suicide that Hades couldn't even claim them all. Life became terrible, and Santa began to subject the peasants to the same cruel conditions that he had forced the elves to live by. Many citizens had lost hope. Namor was dead, Poseidon was in retirement at Olympus, the golden sons of Atlantis were on a mission to find Proteus, and the Weegie Knight was missing in action.
Aidan had read the chronicles of Atlantis and heard the stories of the bold battles between Poseidon and Proteus. He knew that without a great leader the people of the water would never regain their freedom, so he started organizing an army of workers. The workers were clumsy and not as skilled as Santa's warriors, so they worked and trained hard but did not make any plans to wage war.
Aidan and the rest of the elves had to lay low during that time, as Santa. Fresh off of his victory began to consolidate his power in the capital. Aidan and the other defecting elves knew that they could incur his wrath should he notice them. Luckily Santa's elves looked similar to sea elves save for the lack of webbed feet and hands, and lungs instead of gills.
The citizenry of Atlantis suffered terribly under the yoke of the Christmas King, and they cried out! Cried out for a champion. Unfortunately Atlantis was short one of those and so the demand was placed on back-order.
Deep in the Great Sea Rift
"Just fucking great were lost and it's all your fault!"
"Why Prince B how is it my fault you're the one driving?"
"Shut up if you hadn't of eaten all the magic herbs that sea wastrel was selling you wouldn't have been acting all strange and you wouldn't have grabbed the steering wheel claiming you knew a short cut and drove us off into that giant abyss!"
"Well you should know that we live in an ocean and there are no short cuts in the ocean, so you should be looking out for me when I am in this condition."
"Shut up"
The two continued driving off in search of their home at the City of Night. Although they wanted to return home they were dreading having to tell their father that they had failed in their mission to find Proteus and find out how he was doing.
"Man Namor is going to be pissed. He tells us every time that we fail in the missions that he gives us and then we beg him for another chance and then we fail again. How is it the Weegie knight can find Proteus whether he wants to or not?"
BMC replied, "Well we never did check out Cavercus and he is the king of that sea shanty so that probably would have been a good place to look."
"Ah man. Dad is going to be pissed. How about we drive out to the Sugar mines instead and agitate the Sea Weegies?"
BMC grinned. "Sounds swell."
As the two arrived at the mines they intended to remain there as long as possible to avoid the displeasure of their drunken father. Prince B estimated that it would be about a week before they got ill from subsisting on sugar and were abducted by the King's guard and taken to their father. BMC wondered if it was wise to make themselves terribly ill from eating nothing but sugar just to avoid their father's punishment.
"Are you kidding? Remember that time I stabbed you with a hot poker and you lost a kidney? Dad was by your side day and night as you clung to life and he was so worried that he completely forgot how we fell asleep and let Proteus steal all those Royal White Weegie Bulls."
BMC remember and agreed that this was a good idea. As they began eating sugar a man startled them and wondered what they were doing with Santa's sugar? Prince L'Homme B demanded to know what species of elf the man was supposed to be and that he reeked of a land creature. The elf confirmed his belief and the Prince asked him how it was possible to breath under water?
"Why I don't know but how is it you two can breathe huh?"
"Well for one thing we both have gills and you don't so as law dictates you should drown!"
The elf realizing his peril did indeed drown. The Sons of Atlantis were unaware of what their actions had achieved, but all of the land elves through out the empire drowned including Aidan and his cohorts. Santa screamed in rage from the royal palace as his royal guards died before his eyes. All of this occurred without the Sons of Atlantis knowledge.
"You know B it might have been a better idea to find out why he was underwater and guarding the Royal sugar mines instead of making it aware to him that he could not survive under the water.
"Well I suppose that would be a logical plan, but as you may have not noticed. He asked what we were doing with Santa's sugar..."
BMC confused by his brother's logic. "So we could have found out who Santa was and why he has taken control of the sugar mines."
"Well I believe it's obvious that Santa has come below the ocean and killed our father, and then he usurped the throne of Atlantis and put this chap in charge of the sugar mines. Our friends and family are probably dead or enslaved..."
BMC mulled over L'Homme's scenario and agreed. "Yes we must leave immediately and free our city!"
L'Homme shook his head. "What, and not take advantage of all of this sugar? I didn't float all the way here not to eat sugar and then rescue a city. No I came to eat sugar and so did you, so sit down and get busy!"
"Well perhaps we could eat some sugar but then we have to leave to save the city."
L'Homme B was preoccupied with consuming vast amounts of sugar and was paying his brother no mind. He noticed the moment of his silence, and assumed that his brother had stopped talking. He thought it would be a good time to add. "Uh what city."
BMC filled with rage grabbed a stingray by the tail. He then swung it around and began using the stingray like a wet towel by snapping Prince B's backside. He screamed with pain and began to flee his brother, but it was all part of the plan, and BMC chased him off to Atlantis.
A few hours later they began to approach the capital. B was still quite put out with his brothers blatant attack. "Why did you have to do that? Man we had all that sugar it was so good I wish I was eating it right now!"
"Shut up already we are here. Lets scout around and see what is going on in the city."
"Good idea you do that and in the mean time I will just swim in through the front gate, so I can begin whoring, and drinking."
BMC made a grab to stop his brother but he was too slow. His brother was speeding towards the city gates, and he could not be saved.
"Come back you fool remember the city has been seized by evil forces. You said so yourself. Come back!"
B turned around and laughed. "I was just making that story up, besides how often am I right? I don't want to skulk and prowl. If there are enemies inside I will just use my mind blow attack."
BMC shook his head and waited for the ruckus to ensue. He heard nothing, but he decided to wait.
He waited for nearly a week before he got up the nerve to follow his brother into the city. As BMC entered the city he discovered it to be deserted. Confused he searched for his brother. He checked the Atlantis Tavern and of course found his brother. He found him passed out over a chair in the back. BMC noted that he had really tied one on.
"Wake up you fool where is everyone, and why didn't you come and get me?"
B grimaced and sat up. He ran his hand through his messy hair and removed the gunk in his eyes before replying. "I thought you were still 'scouting' the city, besides I was busy at the palace sitting in the throne. Did you know the throne is comfortable?"
"Oh my God you didn't did you?"
B smirked and his face reddened before saying. "Alright you got me I masturbated on dad's throne. I always wanted to what's the big deal. I found out Santa's army mysteriously died and he decided to flee the city rather then find out what killed his troops."
The brothers decided a huge celebration was in order. They swam in Marvin Gaye and he performed the citizens favorite covers of Christopher Cross songs, and everyone danced late until the night and all through the following day and when they were finally done they experimented with their sexuality and lived happily ever after.
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|T|R|I|P|E| Issue Eight - September 24th, 2002
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website = http://scene.textfiles.com/tripe/tripe.txt
