Repost: Alt.devilbunnies Posts 1/2
Chris Mayfield
This is a reposting of a MiSTing I did just before leaving college
for the summer. Over the summer I worked on it a little. This
posting contains more jokes plus a bonus track, "At 'The Burrow.'"
Enjoy!
******************************************************************
Just another MiSTing by me. I found it more entertaining to do
this than study for my finals. Go figure. Anyway, comments are
welcome. Chris Mayfield, camf...@iastate.edu
[General opening antics]
[1...2...3...4...5...6...]
[SOL. Everybody is behind the desk. There are boxes all around and
various items scattered over the desk and on top of the boxes.]
Mike: Hi everybody. It's that time of the year again: spring
cleaning. Now Tom, you sort through all the toys and make sure
they have all the pieces. Crow, you can check all the closets for
clothes we can give to Goodwill. [picks up something off of the
desk] What's this?
Crow: Oh, that's our old Killer Shrew game.
Mike: Does it have all the pieces?
Tom: It should. They're all glued on.
Mike: Well then, that's--huh? What about this Unearthly game?
Crow: We're missing the John Carradine piece because Tom used it
in his Gamera playset and it melted.
Gypsy: Why can't you kids take better care of your toys? I don't
see why we have to buy you all these things. You can't take care
of what you already have. [turns to Mike] You know, it's your
mother who buys them all this junk. When I was your age we didn't
have any computer games or G.I. Joes or...
[Gypsy continues with her lecture as the lights blink and we cut
to a commercial]
[Back on SOL]
Gypsy: ...and I didn't get an allowance. I worked on the farm all
day and never got paid a cent. Your grandfather never once--
Mike: Gypsy, I think Dr. Forrester is calling. [hits light]
[Deep 13. Dr. Forrester is in a tuxedo labcoat.]
Dr. F: Ah, Nelson, I've got a very important meeting coming up.
You see, I've taped one of the experiments, and I'm going to
release it as a major motion picture! I've got some people coming
over right now to talk to me about it! [doorbell] That's them!
[runs over and opens the door, but we can't see the people] Mr.
S, Mr. K, Mr. G, so glad you could come. Right this way.
[SOL]
Tom: Are we going to get any royalties from this?
Crow: Yeah, and does our contract allow for future films? What
about Earth Vs. Soup?
Mike: I think you guys are jumping the gun a little. Dr. Forrester
hasn't even signed the deal yet. Let's see how he's doing.
[Deep 13. The three men are seated with their backs to the camera]
Dr. F: You see, I have this man in space and I send him really bad
movies, you know, like "Always" or "Oliver and Co." [the men get
up] No, wait! And then they do these skits and songs and--here's
a tape!
[Puts in a tape: Mike is polishing his shoes, dressed as Carol
Channing. The men start to leave.]
Dr. F: No, come back! He's really not mentally unstable! Honest!
[they leave] Great. Good one Nelson. Just for that, I'm going to
send you this collection of posts I pulled off of alt.
devilbunnies. Eat hasenpfeffer, boy toy.
[SOL. Chaos.]
All: We've got Usenet sign!!
[6...5...4...3...2...1...]
>From: arp...@psu.edu (Andrija Popovic)
>Newsgroups: alt.devilbunnies
>Subject: [s] WFU: Darkness Falls pt.1 [Long and nasty]
>Date: 30 Apr 1995 16:50:24 GMT
>Organization: Penn State University
>Message-ID: <3o0f4g$e...@hearst.cac.psu.edu>
>
>WAKE FORREST WARREN, 9:00 PM.
>
>Col. Kraven loved his walks through the ranks in the morning
>hours.
Mike: Um, it's nine at night.
> Especially in times like this. Since the rapid and
>insubordinate departure of GatoBunny's troops he'd increased his
>tours to help build morale.
Tom: Great. Now we have to fly 60 missions before we can go home.
Crow: The beatings will continue until morale improves.
> Contact with the common soldier bun
>gave them confidence, let them feel that they were in good hands.
Crow: With All-State.
>
>The whole of Wake Forest Warren was on combat alert. Col. Kraven
>said it was a readiness exercise, testing the men's skills at
Mike: Ballroom dancing.
Tom: [whining] But Colonel, why can't I lead?
Crow: [gruff] Because you're a Private and I'm a Colonel! Now shut
up and tango!
>preparing for full combat. The soldiers knew the truth, even if
>Kraven didn't. Kraven was scared.
Crow: So that makes Kraven craven.
Tom: Fancy that.
> Gato's departure and warnings
>about an assault by the mysterious creatures that destroyed
>several bunny patrols and massacred Fluffthorn Warren.
Mike: His very long, convoluted sentences without verbs.
> Everyone
>was tense, waiting for something-anything to happen.
Crow: But in this post, that was unlikely.
>
>Kraven stopped by the pillbox
Mike: Let's see...six green ones, a couple yellow ones, and a shot
of Nyquil to top it off.
> where Corporal Hoplite and Private
>WhiteEars. They saluted when the Colonel entered,
Crow: [German] Heil! Mein Furry!
> but WhiteEars
>couldn't stop shaking and stuttering the words "Mirrored
>eyes...mirrored eyes..."
Tom: The woods are burning...the woods are burning...
>
>"WHAT'S WRONG WITH HIM?" Barked Kraven.
Crow: He thinks he's Usagi Yojimbo. Sad, really.
>
>"Private WhiteEars survived an attack by the MIBs. He's a bit
>shell shocked..."
Mike: "Must," "must," why "must?" What power had Kraven over him?
>
>"NONSENSE.
Tom: That's what this post is. NONSENSE.
> Shell-shock is something weak humans get, not
>devilbunnies.
All: [snicker]
> Have this bun confined to quarters and transfered
>out as soon as possible. I'll have no weaklings in my---
Tom: Coffee?
Crow: Knapsack?
Mike: Laundry hamper?
>
>With a noise to deafen Frith himself, the hammer of the Gods
Crow: It's Gotterblackendecker.
>struck Wake Forest Warren over and over, shattering the dug in
>possitions and spilling dirt onto Col. Kraven.
Mike: [Kraven] Oh! How will I get this dry cleaned out here on the
front?
>
>Kraven streaked out of the pillbox and jabbered on his comm unit
>as he rushed to C&C.
Tom: Comments and criticism?
> "What in Frith's name is going on?"
Crow: Don't take the Rabbit-Spawn of Hades' name in vain.
>
>"Sir, twelve high explosive missiles have just struck the area,
>left-center-right spread. Most of our external defenses are
>down!"
>
>"Dammit, why didn't the anti-missile systems launch!"
Mike: Sir, Lt. Dammit is in infantry. I'm Sgt. Sonovabitch.
>
>"Sir, we didn't know they were out there until they hit us--the
>things are invisible on radar."
Crow: No! Nothing can stop Radar!
> Another wave of death slammed
>into the warren,
Tom: [surfer] Dude! Surf's up!
> this time twice as hard, knocking Kraven off his
>feet as he entered C&C.
>
>"REPORT!"
Mike: Ahem. The Extinction of the Dinosaurs, by Mike Nelson. A
long, long time ago there used to be dinosaurs...
>
>"Sir, the outside of the warren has been repeatedly bombarded
>with high explosive missiles of an unknown design and orgin.
>Almost all of our external automatated
Tom: The extra "a" is for extra automation!
> defenses are down and
>motion sensors are picking up somthing moving out there."
>
>"Get me any visuals you can!"
Crow: Here's our profit in the third quarter in red, with our cost
in blue. Now this pie chart here shows monthly expenditures...
> Wake Forrest Warren was placed in
>the most strategically sound area possible.
Mike: Following Seinfeld.
> There was only one
>clear appraoch to the warren and that was
Tom: I-80.
> covered in every
>possible way. It would take a full scale strike by several army
>regiments to penetrate their defenses.
Mike: Or an HO scale strike by a million army regiments.
> Yet, somehow, these....he
>hated to think it...human MIBs
Tom: Men in Black?
Mike: No, that's alt.alien.visitors. It's just down the hall to
the right.
> had managed to sneak stealth
>missiles through their defenses to knock them out.
>
>The visuals came up, fuzzy
Crow: Makes sense, since they're rabbits.
> and distorted. In the distance,
>Kraven could see movement. He hit the vision enhancement.
Mike: If they have the vision enhancement, why don't they use that
in the first place?
> The
>air--helicopters of a design he couldn't recognize, floating in
>the air
Crow: Exactly the way bricks don't.
> like dragonflies of death and raining hot death onto the
>warren's automated defense perimiter.
Mike: Today's forecast: Partly cloudy with a chance of scattered
hot death.
> Behind and beneath them,
>an armored collum
Tom: Collum, Collum. What has it got in its nasty warrenses?
> of some kind--not tracked but walking, low to
>the ground--and troops of some kind behind that.
>
>This was it.
Bots: What?
Mike: No, "it." The impersonal pronoun.
> This was the nightmare Gato had predicted. The
>MIBs were attacking and the surface weapons -- top bunny
>technology -- were lying limp and impotent
Mike: Something tells me this is about more than just bunnies.
> in the face of this
>new enemy.
>
>But, where bunny tech had failed, bunny power would succeed.
Tom: [Scrappy] B-b-b-bunny power!!
>"Tell the troops to fall out and man the defensive positions.
Crow: Shouldn't that be "rabbit the defensive positions?"
Tom: You'd think they could at least be consistent in their
mythos.
>Set all external weapons to manual. Anyone who refuses to go
>out--shoot them!"
Mike: EXTERMINATE EXTERMINATE EXTERMINATE!!
>
>"Sir?"
>
>"Do as I command! Meanwhile, order my private guard to accompany
>me to...the entrenched command and control center."
Tom: [Lovitz] Yeah, that's it. My secret fortress of solitude.
Yeah, with Superman. That's the ticket!
>
>Everybun in the base knew what that was. A private bunker,
Crow: An Archie Bunker.
>hidden in the back of the base with a clear escape route should
>things get comprimised.
Tom: Such things as spelling.
Mike: Take it easy, Tom. It's just one word. This is one of the
better posts we've read.
Crow: Excuse me?
Mike: Well, as far as spelling is concerned.
> The Colonel was going to observe things
>from a titanium fortress for him and his men alone.
Mike: Nyah, nyah. This is my fortress and you can't come in.
Tom: No fair! Mom!
> The
>techbunny who delivered the order, deep in his heart, wanted to
>draw his weapon and shoot Col. Kraven in the face.
Crow: Yep, having your own ultra cool, impregnable, high-tech
fortress is bound to cause dissension in the ranks.
>
>THE FRONT LINES: 9:12
All: For Frith so loved the world...
>
>At first, the soldierbuns thought they could handle it--they
>thought they could deal with the missiles striking them with
>terrifying regularity
Mike: [in horror] They're so...AVERAGE!!
> as they desperately attempted to salvage
>the surface defenses. But, as they exited, the missiles struck
>closer and closer to home. And new weapons--energy weapons of
>some kind that reduced buns to ashes in seconds
Crow: Hot crossed buns, hot crossed buns. One a penny, two a
penny; hot crossed buns.
> --ate away at the
>lines. Even before they were fully deployed, Wake Forrest Warren
>had lost a quarter of it's number.
Mike: Due to government cutbacks in defense spending.
>
>And then the assault really began. The armored units weren't
>armored units
Crow: Then why call them armored units?
> --not traditional ones.
Tom: [Jewish] Without tradition, we are all like...a sniper on the
roof.
> They were _Things_
Tom: Things?
Mike: Yeah, you know, Things. Stuff. Do-jobbies.
Tom: Oh, *Things.* Well why didn't you say so in the first place?
> walking
>death machines built from nanotechnology and the broken corpses
>of bunnies and squirrels.
Crow: It's the Denny's breakfast platter.
> They had four stubby, mechanical
>talons for legs, two chainguns for arms, two missile pods for
>shoulder and a screaming, demon head that spat focused energy
>rays.
Mike: They just described my great aunt.
> The abominations took twelve hits from a bunny gun--
Crow: Lets see...12 hits with type 4 armor, minus the shield
bonus...
>designed to take out a tank in one--before even stumbling. By
>the time they were finshed, the front line defense was shredded
>like a bunny in a blender.
Tom: It's the Lepusmatic '76!
>
>Then came the troops. Armored troops, black as night and armed
>to the teeth. Under the support of their black helicopter,
Tom: The U.N. forces moved into Washington, using their bar code
scanners to track gun owners and mow them down! Then the Russian
tank brigade entrenched under the Rockies moved in to capture
Utah. That's when the...
Mike: [grabbing Tom] Enough alt.conspiracy for you.
> the
>MIB shock troops ground their way through the soldiers. Five
>bunnies fell for every MIB wounded.
Crow: Those bastards got Bugs! Get 'em!
> And they kept coming--over
>and over like an ebony tide of destruction, they evil,
Tom: You Jane.
> insectoid
>helmets laughing as they pulped the skulls of dead bunnies under
>their armored heels.
>
>Death had come to Wake Forrest Warren.
Crow: And he didn't even make reservations.
Mike: I have become death, destroyer of wabbits.
> Bunnies, once proud of
>their status as greatest living creatures on the planet, wept.
>Apocalypse was here.
>
>And then, a great screaming came from the woods
Tom: A screaming came across the sky.
> as fifty high-
>powered bunny gun beams
Crow: Bunny gun beams, bunny bum geans, gummy bum beans...you try
saying that three times fast.
> streaked from the trees and shattered a
>black helicopter. The MIBs, shocked by the sudden hail of fire
Mike: It's matchstick sized hail.
>from their left flank, turned to see what had happened.
Tom: [Brit] Those rabbits are dynamite!
Crow: [same] Would it confuse them if we ran away some more?
>
>Louis, Gato and the combined squirrel and bunny army--covered in
>mud and leaves to fool the MIB sensors
Tom: Apparently, the MIBs are rock stupid.
> --rained death onto the
>MIBs.
Mike: Where are these guys? It rains (hot) death and hails fire.
Crow: California.
Mike: Oh.
> With calm, almost stoic precision they delivered one head
>shot after another to the troops
Crow: [squeaky] I'm crushing your head. Crush! Crush!
> before they re-organized and
>split--half advancing on the Warren and half merging with the
>woods to fight the new enemy.
Mike: The cast of Melrose Place.
>
>And, everywhere on that bright, sunny field the grass changed
>from green to hot, thick red--blood red.
>
>The battle was joined...
Crow: Already in progress.
>
>TBC
>
>0tt0 (arp...@psu.edu)
> "Dreams do not vanish, so long as people do not abandon them."
> --Phantom F. Harlock _Arcadia of My Youth_
>From: "Kkatman
Tom: Du.
> (Furry Rep)" <rich...@uidaho.edu>
>Reply-To: "Kkatman (Furry Rep)" <rich...@uidaho.edu>
>Newsgroups: alt.devilbunnies
>Followup-To: alt.devilbunnies
>Subject: Containment Breach (was Broad-Beam to ALL)
>Date: 1 May 1995 18:28:58 -0600
Tom: May day! May day! I'm going down!
>Organization: DevilBunnies News<->Mail Gateway
>Message-ID: <3o3uca$5...@xmission.xmission.com>
>References: <3o3g7p$q...@xmission.xmission.com>
>
> People came running.
Mike: For the rich taste of devilbunnies.
>
> What the fluffyhell
All: [snicker]
> was this? Since when did the Fudds pull
>in the Department of Agriculture to do their dirty work?
Tom: [Quinn] We've slid into a parallel world where Colin Powell
replaced Mike Espy.
>Sometime after his arrival, Oregon had become a rabbit Quarenteen
Tom: Tarentino.
Crow: Wasn't he the director of Reservoir Rabbits?
>Zone.
>
> As the worker obediently slid inside the van, Cheshire turned
>and opened fire.
>
> A blizzard of bullets burst across the highway,
Tom: Bang! Bang! Bang!
Crow: Badadow! Badadow!
Mike: Kachew! Kachew! Kachew!
> scything down
>the others, ripping holes in the vehicles behind him. Red
>painted the interior of one Suburu as Cheshire marked it
All: Ewww!
Tom: I didn't know rabbits marked their territory.
> for
>sustained fire. A moment later, the car erupted in violent
>flame.
Mike: Because everyone knows that when anything hits a car, it
explodes.
>
> He turned the morpharmor's automatic assult rifle on a
>motorcyclist, slicing him off his Yamaha and down towards the
>oncoming traffic.
Tom: He should've worn a helmet.
Crow: [Heston] You did it! You finally did it, you damn dirty
rabbits!
>
> A red light appeared before his eyes, hovering there.
Crow: Are you a good witch or a bad witch?
Mike: The trouble with rabbits driving is that they get caught
staring at the traffic lights.
> The roof of the van gave way. He thumped down onto his back,
>looking up at the catastrophically weakened metal above him.
>
> "?"
Mike: "!"
>
> Then, quickly, "Drive! Get us out of here!"
Tom: [singing] Bunny, you can drive my car.
>
> And to the kidnapped: "Get on your little peeper..."
All: [clear throats] Hmm.
>
> *** *** ***
>
>********* Widebeam *********
>
>Dearest Sharree,
Crow: Bite me. Love, Num-num.
>
>> I told you to BACK OFF. I told you I had Ferrotti
Tom: Fellini.
Mike: I think you're stretching the director jokes, Tom.
> guarding
>>my family and I didn't NEED your help. In fact, The Ferrotti
>>told me that it was one of YOUR weapons that set the house on
>>fire, YOU are responsible for what happened.
Mike: Only YOU can prevent house fires.
> Ferrotti don't use
>>fire as a weapon, in fact they hardly use fire at all.
Crow: Except when they burn down people's houses.
>
> A misfire, I'm afraid.
Tom: Sorry about slaughtering your family. Were you close?
> The weapon was aimed at the Ferrotti
>that *instigated* the attack. From now on, I assure you, I will
>maintain a better level of marksmanship in my people.
Tom: Again, sorry about your family. Can we replace them for you?
>
>> Yah, Right, and if I believe that I'm the queen of the May.
>>I KNOW that your master wants an empath on his side.
Mike: ThE mAsTeR wOuLd LiKe PsIoNiCs.
>
> Oh? Have you spoken with Frith recently then?
> (Or are you somehow under the misguided assumption that I
>work *for* War?)
Crow: You know that I'm currently employed by Pestilence.
>
>> You think I would do THAT to my own family. your insane.
Tom: Which leads to creativity.
>
> That's your opinion.
>
> And as I doubt you would do that intentially, the actions of
>you and your lacky Istari
Bots: [siren noises]
Mike: Put down the Tolkien term and step away from the post. The
Copyright Bureau has you surrounded.
> in Oregon show you would be (and I'm
>betting *were*) willing to risk your family in your crusade.
>
>> Oh, now you were "Defending yourself" when I told you to
>>STAY OUT of that area.
Tom: What area?
Crow: Mitchell's area.
Tom: Yuck.
>
> I already had someone *in* the area, dearest, when you told
>me to stay out. If you hadn't been so bloody impatient, I would
>have pulled him out quietly as part of my visit and left your
>family to your own mechanizations.
>
>> make him pay for what he's doing and what he did to Warren.
> ^^^ ^^ ^^
Tom: Revenge for the Teapot Dome scandal!
>
> I'd always considered Frith more of an IT myself. Curious...
Crow: [Spock] Yet fascinating...
>
>the cheshire
>spokesman for the War of the Four
>prophet of Frith
>
> (o (o
>
>( ( ( (
> ( ( ( (
> ( ( ( (
> ( ( ( (
>
>******** END ********
Mike: Only you can prevent ASCII art. Think about it, won't you?
Tom: Let's scoot.
[1...2...3...4...5...6...]
Mike: Weird experiment so far, huh guys?
Tom: Yeah. How do these types of newsgroups get started?
Mike: Tom, no man can say. But if you could start up any newsgroup
you wanted, what would it be?
Tom: Oh! I'd like alt.mentos.die.die.die!
Crow: Rec.arts.spec.scripts!
Tom: Alt.sex.fetish.pants.pants.pants!
Crow: Alt.fan.crow!
Tom: Alt.die.for.tom.servo.
Crow: Alt.worship.at.feet.crow.
Tom: Alt.tom.is.the.one.true.god.and.dont.you.forget.it.
Mike: Stop it! You guys are missing the whole point!
Crow: Rec.mike.is.a.dink.
Tom: Misc.nelson.has.no.life.
Mike: Hey you guys--[lights flash]--we've got Usenet sign!
[6...5...4...3...2...1...]
Mike: [entering] Very funny, you guys. Remind me to remove your
free will subroutine sometime.
>From: blck...@pentagon.io.com (Lt. Blacktail)
>Newsgroups: alt.devilbunnies
>Subject: Oregon Penetration: Blacktail
>Date: 26 Apr 1995 19:23:00 -0500
>Organization: Illuminati Online
Tom: Coming to a conspiracy near you!
>Message-ID: <3nmo54$f...@pentagon.io.com>
>
>Blacktail pegged the pedal to the floor.
Crow: What do devilbunnies drive?
Mike: Oh, I don't know. Maybe Voltswagon Rabbits?
> The Cavalier jerked out
>into the oncoming lane and bolted around the blue ford pickup.
>As they passed the truck, Annette made sure to point out to the
>old man behind the wheel that he was going very slow.
Crow: [dumb laugh] Heh, heh, read between the lines, old man.
> And so
>went most of the trip. As they neared Oregon, Blacktail flipped
>the radio on.
Mike: This plot specific message just in.
>
> "...rby Broxton the death count rises. The Local Agents
>there have been quoted as saying,
Crow: "The police aren't there to create disorder, they're there
to preserve disorder."
> 'The virus mainly affects
>rabbits. For this reason the isolation of the infected area is
>necessary
Tom: We are spraying the infected area with Cruex.
> to ensure that the virus does not spread to the
>surrounding states.' Further bulletins will be announced
Mike: When the plot requires it.
> as news
>arrives. And now for 200 minutes of pure music on Coast 101.5.
>[the Cranberries' Zombie begins playing.]"
>
> Blacktail smiled, "Probably all FUDD propaganda.
Crow: The Cranberries are so right wing militaristic.
> But we've
>got to get inside that area. There is information in there. I
>can smell it.
Tom: What does information smell like?
Crow: The nose sees information as a series of ones and zeros.
> One good thing, they're trying to keep rabbits in
>so it's my guess that they won't stop them from going inside.
Mike: So Oregon is a giant Rabbit Motel?
Tom: Rabbits check in, but they don't check out.
>That's if my Imager Scrambler doesn't work."
>
> Annette broke in, "Imager Scrambler?" She looked at him with
>quizzical eyes.
>
> "Yes, it causes a power spike in the FUDDs' Cuteness Imagers.
Tom: It's just beginning to dawn on me how stupid all of this
really is.
>They'll think something is wrong with the gear. Basically it
>overloads the imager until I'm out of range, problem is it was
>very experimental and it doesn't work all the time."
Crow: And it runs on the warm blood of freshly killed raccoons.
>
> Annette nodded. Up ahead the road stretched on and in the
>distance it climbed a small hill. On that road, heading out of
>Oregon, was a line of cars, each one stopping at the checkpoint
All: DO YOU HAVE ANY FRUIT TO DECLARE?
>that came into view. Blacktail slowed the Cavalier down. From
>inside his Morpharmour he activated a nanite routine that began
>churning out a electromagnetic pulse that fizzled every high-tech
>device within a quarter mile.
Mike: [Blacktail] Urgh! My pacemaker!
>
> Slowly they approached the checkpoint, Blacktail acted casual
>as if he had every right to be a human behind the wheel of a car
>about to enter oregon. Annette just shifted nervously in her
>seat and fingered the trigger of her sidearm.
Tom: [singing, falsetto] Happiness is a warm gun.
>
> Ahead of them was the checkpoint. A makeshift fence system
>extended off the road a bit. Straddling the center line of the
>road was a Hummer. Interesting,
Crow: That's what this post needs to be!
> this one had a high power 20mm
>gun strapped to the roof. Enough firepower to take out a car one
>mile away. Blacktail grinned.
Tom: Heh, heh, gun. Heh, heh, death. Cool.
> Near the Hummer a man in a grey
>jumpsuit was fiddling with a Cuteness Imager, repeatedly banging
>the side of the machine.
Crow: Stuff usually works better if you smash it first.
>
> From inside the vehicle the Morpharmour allowed Blacktail to
>hear him speaking with another man. "Joe, yeah, the damned thing
>just leapt off the scale.
Mike: It keeps saying that I'm "hot stuff."
> We got peaks forming everywhere.
>Hells the damned thing says there's a whole warren right
>underneath yer feet!"
Mike: Robert Penn Warren?
Crow: Earl Warren?
Tom: Warren Burger?
>
> "The radio's on the fritz too, Mike,
Mike: Well, I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do about it.
> must be interference
>from somewhere. Just halt the outgoings, can't allow anything
>past."
>
> The man called Joe looked to Blacktail and Annette's car.
Mike: Look to this car, young graduate.
>"Whaddabout them?"
>
> Mike smiled, "Hell's if they're DB's and they want in here,
>more power to 'em!"
>
> Joe smiled and waved the Cavalier forward. Quick questions
>were asked,
Crow: Whatsthecapitalofmontanawhatstheaccerationduetogravityin
meterspersecondsquaredwhowasthesecondprimeministerofengland?
> where they were going. Their Business in the
>Infected Zone.
Tom: [singing] Highway to the Infected Zone...
> When they would be leaving. Blacktail lied. A
>lot. Jow waved them on, wishing them a nice day.
Mike: You folks enjoy the Holocaust now, ya hear?
>
> The drove by and Annette watched as they passed the Hummer,
>"Big gun."
Tom: [dumb falsetto] Ooooh, big gun.
> She paused as they drove and spoke once they were out
>of distance. "On the side of the Hummer,
Mike: There hung a claw.
> there was a shield, and
>it wasn't the Department of Agriculture's. It was mostly covered
>by dirt but I got the word SecStar from it. Mean anything?"
Crow: In this post? Don't kid me.
>
> Blacktail shook his head, "Probably not, but I can take a
>look once we find a place to stay."
>
> Annette nodded and they drove on. Little did they know
Tom: Ain't that the truth.
> but
>they had passed through a wall that no bun had crossed since the
>whole ordeal began. It wasn't going to be easy to get out.
Mike: Because they had forgotten their passports.
>
>TBC---
>"In heaven is divine, on earth do sinners rest | Blacktail &
> Truffles.VSPP
> so say the wise men, the mad men, the dead. | written by:
Tom: A college student loopy on Mountain Dew and Elmer's Glue.
> About the storm we find the fever, | Jason
> Kokosinski
> in her heart we find salvation." - JMK | blck...@io.com
[continued in part 2]