Repost: Alt.Devilbunnies Posts 2/2
Chris Mayfield
>From: at...@FreeNet.Carleton.CA (Tammy Sue Heming)
>Reply-To: at...@FreeNet.Carleton.CA (Tammy Sue Heming)
>Newsgroups: alt.devilbunnies
>Subject: DenverWarren: To Skin A Cat I
Mike: To be followed up with To Skin a Cat II and III. You see,
cause there's more than one way...
Tom: We get it, Nelson.
>Date: Fri, 28 Apr 1995 00:21:39 GMT
>Organization: The National Capital FreeNet
>Message-ID: <D7pyC...@freenet.carleton.ca>
>
>Easter wrote:
>
>> Then she remembered Istari Silver
Crow: Mithril.
> and what his message to
>>her. Of course. If FluffyTeacher wouldn't allow her to use
>>Denverwarren, there was a whole warren out there,
Tom: Look out warren! Here I come!
> abandonded.
>>The Oklahoma system was old,
Crow: But everything's modern in Kansas City!
> but it could be made to work.
>> But first...
Mike: A word from our sponsor.
>> "This is Easter IronYears! Can I please talk to
>>FluffyTeacher?"
Mike: I don't know. *Can* you?
Tom: I mean, *may* I talk with FluffyTeacher?
>
>FluffyTeacher groaned when the intercom went off again. "What is
>it *this* time?" [annoyedfluff]
Crow: You know, the stage directions make this post for me.
>
>"Easter has sent another request to see you, this is the fifth
>one."
Mike: [Brit] Third request, sir.
Crow: [same] Right. Third.
>
>FluffyTeacher sighed. Between having to clean the kitchen after
>Kyrie and Saffron's "accident",
Tom: The shameful "pancake batter" incident.
> getting the Eleison's settled
Mike: Wait. Kyrie--Eleison. It's Catholic humor. Ha.
Tom: [singing] But the music of our singing, and the music of the
ringing, when we were singing Kyrie Eleison, Kyrie Eleison...
>into their new home, worrying about Danny and Dannielle at NoCo,
>taking Alex to specialists to find out why he still wasn't
>talking,
Mike: Perhaps that trowel embedded in his head is the problem.
Tom: Or that thalidomide pacifier they gave him as a child.
Crow: Don't discount the possibility that he's just plain stupid.
> and getting Al ready for mentat training, she had
>completely forgotten about Easter
Mike: [grumbling] Great. I've got to get some candy, pick up that
dyeing kit and some eggs, oh, and send out the cards...
> and Stephan.
>
>"Tell Easter I'll see her in my office in ten minutes." That
>should give herself enough time to get the kits to bed.
>
>[ten minutes later]
Crow: Wow! She's so punctual!
Tom: Today class, we learn "compression of time."
>
>Easter entered FluffyTeacher's office escorted by guards, a very
>frazzled FluffyTeacher was waiting for her.
>
>"What do you need to see me about Easter?"
Mike: It's this Jesus character. He's interfering with our candy
sales.
> FluffyTeacher got
>right down to business.
>
>Easter fluffed uncertainly. "I thank you for your hospitality,
Crow: [FluffyTeacher] Thanks. NOW GET OUT!
>but I fear that my continued stay here would endanger your
>warren. I...cannot do that.
Mike: I...have to practice my...dramatic pauses.
>
>"As you know, an old, er, 'acquaintance' of mine has been
>threatening me and has already attacked the Old Warren. I'm
>going to try to stop him.
Crow: [falsetto] There can be only one!
>
>"I need a much bigger system than my portable. There's an
>abandoned warren in Oklahoma that I can use..."
>
>Easter sighed. "I need a bunnymover to get there.
Mike: Why don't you just call U-haul?
> And... if you
>wouldn't mind, I'd really appreciate some company for the ride."
>
>FluffyTeacher looked at all the work on her desk. She still had
>five kits to raise. She had a warren to run.
Mike: [singing] There is work to be done, to be done, there's a
warren to be run, to be run, come you son of a son of a bun,
take your stand!
> "I really need a
>vacation." she [fluffsighed] "Besides, if Oklahoma *is*
>abandoned,
Crow: I'm sorry. Oklahoma is closed today. Can you come back
tomorrow?
> I can see if it's suitable for Derik to establish
>himself in. That kit has already fathered two litters, with
>another one on the way!"
Tom: Geez, they're breeding like...forget I said anything.
> FluffyTeacher then turned serious.
>"There is just one problem, what am I suppose to do with Stephan?
Crow: [falsetto] Leopold brought this drunk home last night.
>I'm not leaving a Fudd in my warren while I'm not here."
>
>FluffyTeacher and Easter IronYears!
>I'm a grandmother already?!?! >;)
Crow: #(:)o
>TBC
>
>@}---`---,---
Mike: An ASCII rose by any other name would still be as lame.
> \
>ftea...@denverwarren.edu \ /\
>Bringing the next generation to Cuteness ( )
>I'm a good doe, HONEST!!!! [fluffypout] _( * )_
Tom: Tell me about the rabbit sig again, George.
>From: mar...@burrow.com
>Reply-To: mar...@burrow.com
>Newsgroups: alt.devilbunnies
>Followup-To: alt.devilbunnies
>Subject: Re: At "The Burrow"
Mike: "The Burrow," serving downtown Des Moines for over twenty
years.
Crow: We cater!
>Date: 29 Apr 1995 20:27:17 -0600
>Organization: DevilBunnies News<->Mail Gateway
>Message-ID: <3nusi5$p...@xmission.xmission.com>
>
>> The servant bowed, and returned in a moment with a frilly
>>Hawaiian umbrella topped margerita,
Tom: It's a finntoozler; you get to keep the glass.
Crow: That's a trip down memory lane.
> and a glass of scotch. To
>>Jinx's chagrin, the servant gave the scotch to the Madame. Jinx
>>eyed the margerita suspiciously.
Mike: [Jinx] I don't trust drinks with accessories.
>>
>> And then, Jinx said something he was sure he was going to
>>regret.
Tom: [Jinx] God, I find young boys attractive.
> "Actually," he turned to the serving-buck, "I'll have
>>one of what the lady here is having. If you don't mind."
>>
>> "But of course not," Madame Cardinale replied. "The customer
>>is always right."
Crow: [Brit, falsetto] First the liquor, then the oral sex!
>>
>> Madame smiled.
>>
>> She had him.
>
> "Now, that's better." Madame Cardinale swirled her glass
>about,
Mike: The lady slings the booze.
Bots: Huh?
> the ice within tinkling against the sides. "I do hate
>awkwardness ever so much.
Crow: [falsetto] Don't you just hate long awkward pauses?
> It distracts from the proper pursuit
>of one's desires."
>
> "Ah--" The good Colonel seemed to be in a daze. She found
>his loosening of his collar exquisitely quaint.
Mike: [falsetto] You have no idea how your inane mannerisms turn
me on.
> Perhaps, after
>her work was done, she could...
Crow: [snores]
Tom: Find out what was causing these narcolepsy attacks.
>
> "Come now, sah. We all have our little needs." Jinx spilled
>a drop of Scotch onto the bedspread as she shimmied back into a
>pillow.
Mike: [Jinx] Terribly sorry about that.
Tom: [falsetto] Don't worry, it's Scotch Guarded.
> "That's what The Burrow is here for. Terence--that
>darling man behind the bar--tends to our customers' demands for
>liquid refreshment. Mah other employees provide"
Crow: SEX! SEX SEX SEX SEX SEX SEX SEX!!!!!
Mike: Crow!
Crow: It's true.
Mike: Yes, but you could be more subtle.
> --pause--
>"dif'rent diversions."
Tom: After Crow's outburst, it's a little anticlimactic.
>
> "And you?" Jinx inquired archly.
>
> "You flatter me, sah!"
Mike: Nothing charms a lady more than suggesting she's a whore.
> The Madame coyly giggled. It was not
>an entirely insincere gesture. "No, Ahm afraid it's been a long
>time since Ah was...active.
Tom: War wound, you know. Purple heart, honorable discharge, that
kind of thing.
> Ah supervise, and empty the ashtrays
>to feel busy. And make sure mah customers get the very best
>treatment they deserve."
Crow: We here at the Chicken Ranch pride ourselves on service.
>
> "You've been, erm, most hospitable. From what I've seen, my
>companions have been *well* taken care of."
Mike: Hugh Grant seemed happy.
>
> "Indeed, Colonel. Whah, just a few minutes before one of mah
>assistants was helpin' your Captain GreyFur satisfy one of his
>needs.
Tom: [Jinx] You helped fill out his income tax forms?
> She brought out mah finest selection of 'wares' to choose
>from."
Crow: Warehouse, whorehouse; what's the big difference?
>
> "Sweet Frith. I hope the poor doe has a strong
>constitution."
>
> "Mah little ones are trained to be...energetic.
Tom: This is soooo wrong. There aren't words to express how wrong
this is.
> And she
>won't be alone. When asked which one met his fancy, he promptly
>said 'By Thor's purple staff--
All: EWWWWWW!!
> all of them!'"
>
> A belly laugh ripped out of Jinx.
Tom: Oh no, Aliens!!
> He pressed the cool side
>of the glass against his muzzle. Tears dripped down from the
>corners of his eyes;
Crow: [Jinx] Oh God, it hurts...
> he could not tell if they were spawned of
>sadness, or the sheer weight of the past months of turmoil coming
>to roost. Cooing softly, Madame Cardinale held him in a soft
>embrace.
Mike: I think Madame Cardinale's tastes have become too catholic.
>
> They always broke down, in the end. Every bun's spirit had a
>softening point.
Crow: Which is why so many of them get aneurysms.
> She would tug there, and darn up the rough
>spots, and say sweet nothings.
Tom: [whispering] Tom Arnold's career...Joey Lawrence's
intelligence...the chances of Stephen Ratliff ever knowing the
touch of a woman...
>
> Then, after their souls were soothed, she would buy them out
>from under their owners. Wholesale.
Mike: We cut out the middleman, Satan, to bring our souls factory
direct to you!
>
>*******
>
> Millie hummed in the darkness.
Crow: Hum diddy deet deet, hoowa hoowa...
> The sky was so clear out
>here, you could see a million stars!
All: Billions and billions and billions...
> She devoted five
>microseconds to matching all the second magnitude stars up to the
>maritime star charts in her memory.
Tom: Show off.
Crow: I'll say.
> A hundred nanoseconds were
>spent on analysing the frequencies of the waves lapping the
>lakeshore. It took a whole two seconds for her to complete a
>provisional dictionary of cricket calls.
Mike: Fancypants, let's see you try Linear A.
>
> Sentient artificial intelligences do not deal well with
>boredom.
Crow: Tell me about it.
>
> A stray, guilty impulse flashed through her neural net. From
>the Admiral's few transmissions, she knew they had a real party
>going on up at that weird house.
Tom: It's Whoreszapoppin!
> Marlin had told her to stay
>put--but it would only be a little naughty to quietly roll up to
>one of the windows. Just to listen, of course...
Mike: You like to listen, don't you?
>
> "Hey [alarmedfluff]!" Her wheels wouldn't turn! Something
>was stuck down there; it felt like the time a skein of fishing
>net had gotten wrapped around her forward axle.
Crow: It's a Joe Naimeth briefed sling net shot underwear thing...
There was a joke in there somewhere, I know it.
>
> Sheriff Buford Langstrom finished clamping the fourth Denver
>Boot onto the huge Cadillac.
Mike: Real stories of the Devilbunny Patrol.
> The vise-like devices were intended
>to prevent scofflaws using their vehicles; the Hardscrabble PD
>had a few around to enforce on-the-spot impoundments. The
>lawman's broad face creased in an evil grin. Them blamed
>helljacks ain't gonna ride off inta the sunset this time, he
>thought.
Tom: He's so inbred he even *thinks* with an accent.
>
> He hoped the buns were enjoying their chosen poisons.
Mike: Bartender, another round of hemlock!
> A
>giant chainsaw, sheathed in a back-scabbard, was going to become
>the antidote.
Crow: I hope it's not a suppository.
> Them fluffers were gonna had a quick confab with
>"Heavens to Betsy", sure 'nuff...
Tom: There's a thin line between slang and sheer idiocy.
>
>************
>
> "...and I've just been so lonely."
Mike: He needs a pet.
Crow: He *is* a pet.
> Jinx shamefacedly blew
>his nose on a handkerchief the Madame plucked from a nearby
>dresser.
Crow: [Jinx, crying] And then all the other kids laughed at me,
"Doesn't have bucked teeth, doesn't have bucked teeth."
>
> "Well, you aren't now." Cardinale suggestively patted the
>pillow she lay on. "And Ah promise you, sah, you won't be. For
>a long, long time."
Mike: Madame Cardinale costs $5.00 the first minute, and $3.50 for
each additional minute.
>
> "Madame." The Colonel stiffened. "I...I cannot. I must
>confess the temptation is great. But I cannot--
All: [all nod knowingly] Ohhhh. We understand.
> it would be a
>dishonor to her memory--"
>
> Now, she realized. The final blow must fall.
All: [singing] Bang! Bang! Maxwell's silver hammer came down upon
his head...
> She produced
>the eight-by-ten glossy hidden under her pillow.
Tom: I wonder if *her* Glamour Shot makes her look like a slut?
> Jinx gasped,
>staring at the photograph with shivering paws.
>
> "This--this looks just like--" he stuttered out.
>
> "Like your sweet Fluffalump."
All: [laugh outrageously]
Mike: [trying not to laugh] Come on--hmfgh--pay attention--ha ha
ha--to the post.
> The Madame sipped her drink.
>The sting of the alcohol mixed delightfully with the thrill of
>stalking her prey.
Crow: Booze and mindgames; they really satisfy.
> "Ah mahself was surprised at the similarity
>in their appearances."
>
> "Spirit, she looks just like when she was when we mated."
Mike: Come see the softer side of alt.sex.bestiality.
>His eyes--horrified, yet hopeful--met her neutral gaze.
>
> "Young Orchid can even imitate her voice. Or so Ah've been
>told."
>
> "Why are you doing this to me?" he whispered.
Crow: Because it's there. No--wait. That's not right.
>
> "Whah, to fulfill your desires. Mah customers *always* are
>satisfied, whether their tastes be common or refined.
Tom: Come on down to the Marquis de Sade Nightclub.
Mike: It's Justine's Place.
> It is all
>the same to me. All Ah ask is a modest payment in return."
>
> "I--I have no money to--"
Tom: [falsetto] That's okay. We take American Express.
Mike: Don't leave the hostel without it.
>
> "Silly. Ah merely ask for...
Crow: [falsetto] Your eternal soul.
> favours. A scrap of information
>here, a tweak of influence there." She took the picture out of
>his nerveless claws.
Tom: [falsetto, struggling] I'll take...I'll take that...I...let
go...I said...let--GIVE IT TO ME! There we go.
> "Or Ah ask for such things on behalf of
>associates. Some of whom are most interested in your, dearbuck."
>
> "You can't be serious." Jinx gazed at her dumbfounded.
>
> "Whah do you look so shocked, honey?"
>
> "I cannot commit treason! Not even for--"
Mike: [falsetto] Boink?
>
> "A chance to know again the joys of a night with your lovely
>wife." Madame Cardinale leaned close, her expression intent.
>"That's what's on the table.
Tom: That's me in the spotlight, losing my virginity.
> Balance it against your loyalty to
>a General who pawned you off on makework assignment. Against a
>life where y'all have to ignore sniggers each time you come ten
>hops near of a bottle of wine cooler.
Crow: [weeping] I...was abused as a child...by Bartles and
Jaymes...
Tom: Thank you for your supporter.
> Where, after all your fun
>on this trip of yours, you still return to a cold, empty bed.
>
> "All this, against doing a few teensy favours for little old
>me..."
>
>TBC
Tom: Let's get out of here. I want to get as far away from that
post as I can.
Crow: [Garth] Wayne, did you ever find Bugs Bunny attractive when
he dressed up like a girl?
[1...2...3...4...5...6...]
Mike: That was a surreal experiment. Demon rabbits trying to take
over the world. Where do people come up with these things?
Crow: Maybe they were exposed to large amounts of "Watership Down"
when they were young?
Tom: There's that childhood obsession with fuzzy footed pajamas.
Crow: Maybe they had some sort of trauma involving "Night of the
Lepus?"
Mike: The world may never know. What do you think, sir?
[Deep 13. Dr. F. is in a pink rabbit costume holding a stuffed
doll of Roger Rabbit.]
Dr. F: Mummy, what do you mean there's no Easter Bunny? Mummy?
Mummy? Tell me about the rabbits, George. [wanders off lost]
\ | /
\|/
---0---
/|\
/ | \
fwshhhh
Dr. F: [haltingly and off-key] Here comes Peter Cottontail...
hopping down the bunny trail...
Mystery Science Theater 3000, its characters, situations, and
merchandise are copyright 1994 Best Brains, Inc. This MSTing is
not authorized, endorsed, or supported by anyone. It is not
intended as an attack on anyone's beliefs. This article may be
freely distributed as long as this notice remains intact.
MiSTed by Chris Mayfield, camf...@iastate.edu. Comments welcome.
>What the fluffyhell was this?