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Sfstory Log 006

Appended 15:09 on 01/03/88 by Jeff Smith:

    Zark Flyby of the Intergalactic Time Police brought his personal
flyer into orbit around the small planet beneath him.  He punched its
spatial and temporal coordinates into the ship's computer, and waited
for a read-out.

         Alpha-Zeta-9E7A-Omega         Sector ZZ/012/A
         Class: M

         Known to inhabitants as "Fwoont"
         Unstable culture of Class 13 (Feudal)
         Coordinates of target: 390045.4555003.343245

    Zark adjusted the setting of his dematerializer to the appropriate
numbers, and enter the demat chamber.  After a few moments of beeping,
a bright blue flame shot through the chamber, taking Zark with it.

    "Zzzzzz.", said the air next to the Doctor.

    Suddenly, what appeared to be a gorilla with elaphantitis made
entirely out the spare parts of tanks and battleships, appeared two
feet away, facing the Doctor.  Before it had a chance to identify
itself, however, Gravity noticed it, and gave it a closer look at
the ground.  The figure slowly recovered from its fall, and stood.
    "I am", said the metallic figure, "Second Lieutenant Zark Flyby
of the Intergalactic Time Police."
    "I am", replied the Doctor, "terribly impressed."
    "Are you", asked Zark, "are you Doctor Bing Von Spleen, formerly
of the planet Earth."
    "No.", said the Doctor, eying what appeared to be a small atom
bomb strapped to the figure's thigh.
    "Are you sure?", asked Zark.
    "No.", replied the Doctor.
    Zark pondered this for a moment, but in the middle of his
pondering, a small metal pellet bounced off his armor and ricocheted
into the bushes. His instincts, honed to predatory perfection by
hundreds of hours of combat prepared him for this moment.  Zark quickly
stabbed at the "Auto-target find", and waited.  He waited predatorily,
    The target scanner found a body-temperature humanoid holding a
stubby rod at greater than body temperature.  That must be the
attacker, Zark concluded.  He drew out his hand-flamer, and gave the
sniper a few hundred degrees of heat.  This served to turn him into
a rather overdone bit of charcoal.  Satisfied with a job well done,
he flicked his snoopers back up and stared at the Doctor.
    "How about them apples, eh?", said Zark smugly.
    "Great,"  said the Doctor, "You just prevented a man from going
to the bathroom on a tree."
    Zark pondered this, but the strain was too much for his brain, and
he gave it up.  Meanwhile, the warlords who had until this time been
casually watching the two enigmatic figures, decided to run for it.
Totally in the dark on this fact, Zark resumed his questioning.
    "Are you, I repeat", repeated Zark, "Doctor Von Spleen of Earth?"
    "No.  Well, yes,"  admitted the Doctor.
    "I have a warrant for your arrest.", said Zark.
    "That's what they all say.", replied the Doctor.
    "No, really. I do.", insisted Zark.
    "Sure, sure, sure."
    "You want to see it?"
    "*If* you have one.", said the Doctor.
    "I really do!", said Zark, as he hunted through a pouch strapped
to his waist.  "It's right... here.", he said triumphantly, looking up
in time to see the Doctor's ship disappear into the clouds.
    "Damn," sword Zark.

    Meanwhile, back on Earth..
    Omeags pondered what he would do next.  Newly stripped of his more-
than-human powers, he was at the mercy of Fate.  And to think, just the
other day he had had lunch with Fate.  She sure has great jugs, thought

    The Doctor and Bubba shot through space at speeds that mentally
healthy people would not have attempted.  "Mentally healthy" was not,
however, one of the word-groups that a casual observer would use to
describe either the Doctor or Bubba.  The most common phrases would
be along the lines of "deranged", "out of touch with reality", and
"keep them away from my daughter." Or son, for that matter.
    Nevertheless, they flew through space.  Quickly.

Where will they go?
Where will they not go?
Where will Zark Flyby go?
Where will *he* not go?
Will they be in the same place?
Will they not be in the same place?

To answer these and more exciting questions, tune in to the next edition

***** Entry appended 15:09 on Sun, 01/03/88 by RPS385   at MAINE    # 059 *****
Appended 15:01 on 01/05/88 by Jeff Smith:

    Zark Flyby set the controls of his Temporal/Spatial cruiser to
"Pursuit" and left his orbit around Fwoont.  The computer automatically
scanned the surrounding parsec of space, located the fleeing Doctor's
spaceship, and set it course accordingly.  After making sure that
his ship was accelerating in the right direction, Zark leaned back in
his command chair and caught some sleep.

    Bubba slowly swam up from the utter dark of unconsciousness.  As he
gradually gained awareness above the level of "Dark. Pain. Dark.", he
started to wonder where he was.  The last thing he remembered was the
Doctor asking him to come forward to have a look at the view screen.
Before he could even locate the aforementioned viewing device, something
had broken over his head, and his face gained oneness with the deck.
Nevertheless, it definitely wasn't the ship's deck than was holding him
up now, it felt more like sand, or fine gravel. "How terribly boring",
thought Bubba.  "What kind of nowhere planet would have such a boring
surface?"  Suddenly it dawned upon him.  "Oh no! I'm in...   Orono!"
    Luckily for him, however, he was wrong.  This was evidenced by
the fact that soon after he arrived at this conclusion, a small, white
star rose in the south, illuminating the desert with a drab light.
Bubba picked himself up from the ground and looked around.
    He was standing in the middle of a large, dusty plain which could
almost be called a desert, except that deserts are usually more exciting
than this.  The  few sparse bushes reminded Bubba of christmas trees
that have been left up until July in the vain hope that another member
of the family will get sick of it first and throw it out.
    Other than these few pitiful growths, the broad plain was absolutely
barren of anything of any interest whatsoever.  Having nothing better
to do with his life at the moment, Bubba picked a random direction and
began walking.  Before he could walk more than a few paces, however, he
noticed something in the dust at his feet.  It was a small metal box
perforated with a series of rectangular holes around its perimeter.
Attached to  it was a small string with a card at the other end.  Bubba
picked up the metal box and read the attached card.

                        GENUINE MARINE HARMONICA!
                           Amaze your family!
                           Make new friends!
                            Become musical!

    Stamped across the face of this card were the words: "Banned".
Before Bubba had time for his interesting find to fully sink in, his
brain said the cerebral equivalent of "Oh, the hell with it.", and
quietly expired.  This development went largely unnoticed by Bubba
until he tried to remember the tune to a song to honk out on his new
find, and the rest of his body noticed the brain's not-so-recent
departure.  Quietly, Bubba expired and fell into the dust of the broad
plain beneath him.

              * Gargavix Oolavant's Pocket Guide to *
              * the Space-Time  Continuum says that *
              * the  one   object  in  the   entire *
              * Universe that Satan cannot stand is *
              * the  harmonica.  He is not the sole *
              * holder  of this view,  however, and *
              * by  an  act  of  the  Intergalactic *
              * Congress   to   Ban,   Censor,  and *
              * Otherwise  Get  Rid  Of  Things  We *
              * Don't Like, all the  harmonicas  in *
              * the known  Universe were rounded up *
              * and  dumped into a black  hole.  As *
              * was stated earlier, nothing that is *
              * dumped into a black hole stays gone *
              * forever, and soon the  billions  of *
              * harmonicas banned the the  Congress *
              * were found  coalesced  into a  huge *
              * harmonica-planet orbitsing a little *
              * known star in a small galaxy on the *
              * rim of the  Universe.  In  order to *
              * hide    this    accumulation,   the *
              * Congress  enlisted  the help of  an *
              * interstellar  trucking service, and *
              * covered  the "planet" with  several *
              * trillion   tons    of   sand.   The *
              * sphere was dubbed  "Arziquarzonis", *
              * meaning  in   Galactic   Eezeespeek *
              * "Don't  come   here,  it's   dull." *
              * Noticing the  Universe's  effort to *
              * rid  itself  of  harmonicas,  Satan *
              * lent  a  hand.   He  put a field of *
              * boredom  around  the planet to help *
              * discourage    visitors    and    to *
              * generally  reinforce  the  planet's *
              * name.                               *

    Bubba's spirit winged its way toward heaven.  Eventually, his soul
found itself in line in front of the Pearly Gates.  Unfortunately, the
line did not seem to be moving and, peering ahead, he saw that the
Gates were closed and a sign reading "Out to Lunch" hung on them.
Bubba sat down on a nearby cloud and waited.
    "Want a harp, bub?", asked a passing angel.
    "No thanks, " replied Bubba, "I'll just hang out."
    The angel looked strangely at Bubba for a moment, and then a look of
awareness passed across his features.
    "You're not.. Bubba Wojahowitz of Earth, are you?", asked the angel
in awe.
    "Well.. Yes.", said Bubba realizing that he could hardly be killed
for who he was when he was already dead.
    "Come right this way.", said the angel as he shot off toward the
    "Wait!", yelled Bubba, "I don't have wings!"
    The angel flew back, picked up Bubba and shot off again.
    "The Big Man wants to see you right away.", said the Angel as he
passed over the Pearly Gates.
    "Gulp," said Bubba.

Why does the "Big Man" want to see Bubba?
Why do I always ask these stupid questions?
Will I ever answer any of them?
Who knows?

To find (maybe) the answers to these and other mind-boggling questions,
tune in for the next shocking entry of SFSTORY CSNOTICE!

***** Entry appended 15:01 on Tue, 01/05/88 by RPS385   at MAINE    # 060 *****
Appended 04:37 on 01/06/88 by Starman:

   And so, while Bubba's soul was being escorted through the Pearly
Gates to meet the 'Big Guy,' his body was having a less enjoyable time
of things.  The only indigenous life to the planet Arziquarzonis was the
vicious and bloodthirsty Saber-Toothed Butterfly.  (Actually it is a
little known fact that these creatures are truly natives of the planet
Zohdia of Sector JJ Delta, but that is of another story and will not be
discussed here.)  And right now, a large fleet of these creatures was
converging on Bubba's inert body.  Since it has been several generations
since their journey from Zohdia, and Saber-Toothed Butterflies aren't
known for their remarkable memory, these creatures were surprised to see
this being lying prone in the gravelly substance of which this planet's
surface was covered.
   For a few moments, they were curious, but then their more aggressive
nature took over, and for the first time in years, they forgot their
canniballistic tendencies and dove at Bubba's brainless corpse.  If they
had ever known, they had certainly forgot now that the peculiar acids in
the Butterflies' saliva glands reacted explosively with the sweat of a
Hue-mun.  The result was a disgusting scene of carnage.  Mangled, burnt
wings and chunks of gory flesh flew in all directions.  In the clearing
smoke, a charred, gaping hole lay in the sand.  At the bottom, hundreds
of banned harmonicas lie twitching.  The wind started to build.  An
incredible sound emanated and grew louder.  It was the sound of millions
of harmonicas playing different notes completely out of harmony.  It
killed the rest of the Butterflies remaining on the planet.  The terribl
sound grew to an overwhelming crescendo.  Sand burst from the ground in
every direction.  Then, the entire planet of Arziquarzonis blew apart
with a terrific force, scatteringharmonicas across the galaxy.
Shortly after this, Qooth Thiiksi squatted in front of his bowl of
crushed Gorwiz legs, picking off the kneecaps idly, enjoying his break-
fast.  Somehow, this was going to be a very special day.  Qooth, neither
male, nor female, but not neuter either, so we shall use the pronoun phe
was not sure why it was a special day, but phe knew it was.  At that
particular moment, a harmonica landed in phis bowl of Gorwiz legs.  Phe
smiled.  (which for the Wzaxtil race, of which Qooth was a member, con-
sisted largely of sticking two tentacles into phis ear (located on phis
chest) and the other straight into the air and waving it about whilst
whistling what would appear to a 20th century human to be the American
Meanwhile, in Heaven, Bubba and the Big Guy chuckled over the events
which had just taken place, and Zark, although asleep, felt a strange
disturbance in the Phorce.

Who is this Qooth guy?
Just what are the Big Guy and Bubba chuckling at?
Why do the Wzaxtils go to such trouble to smile?
What will Satan and the Congress do about all these harmonicas again?
Does anyone remember where Zark is even going?
And most importantly, does anyone care?

Stay tuned for the next exciting chapter in SFSTORY CSNOTICE!

***** Entry appended 04:37 on Wed, 01/06/88 by SEIDEL   at USCVM    # 061 *****
Appended 01:33 on 01/27/88 by Starman:

As long as this has been renewed, I'm going to add to it.  So without
further ado, the shortest story segment of the bunch!

    Bubba, now in heaven due to the fact that, like a great many of the
inhabitants of the place, he was dead, was in a huge palace with the Big
Guy (no longer a small dog, but in fact a duck-billed platypus for the
past week) chuckling over their recent victory over Satan.  Harmonicas,
the most holy of musical instruments (next to the harp, of course) were
now freely distributed about the Universe.  In fact, one of them had
just landed in Qooth's breakfast, and this had changed phis life.  Phe
immediately knew the only course of action was to get into phis starship
and head for planet Wiph.  This, phe knew, was not going to be an easy


...SFSTORY CSNOTICE  (assuming it *is* in fact, still continuing)

(to see previous stuff, type SENDME SFSTORY CSNOTICE FROM CSBB to CSNEWS

***** Entry appended 01:33 on Wed, 01/27/88 by SEIDEL   at USCVM    # 067 *****
Appended 04:05 on 01/28/88 by Starman:

     About 1 billion miles from a large A3 star orbits an earthlike
world consisting of about 80% water.  On this planet, an intelligent
race called the Wzaxtil exist.  50,000 miles above this planet, a
spacecraft orbits, slowly moving closer to a small pod.  After a short
time, the larger craft swallows the smaller.
     Linda and Wilhelm embrace each other, while a confused Mark
Hyperthrust and Rader look on.  This touching scene is interrupted,
however, by a sudden rocking of the ship.
     "Whaddafuck was that?" they all blurted simultaneously.  This was
just one of the many coincidences that the Universe was filled with, and
in fact, was getting rather tired of, but since nothing occurs without
consequence, something resulted.  A harmonica suddenly appeared in Mark'
pocket, but he was completely oblivious to it.
     They all left the airlock area where they picked up Natchwald and
headed for the bridge.
     "Slave." commanded Mark.
     "Yes, Mark?" replied the computer.
     "Whaddafuck was that?" queried Mark.
     "You mean that lurch we just experienced?  I just assumed it was
more of your sexual escapades with the women.  Let me check it out."
A slight pause.  "Ah.  It's just a small spaceship embedded in our side.
No biggie."
     "That's the escape pod we just picked up, stupid."
     "Oh my, no, sir.  That's on our port side.  This spaceship is on
our starboard side.  I believe it came from the planet below us.  Yep,
it's definitely got Wzaxtil markings."
     At that moment, there was a tapping noise on the window.  Everyone
turned around to see a strange grasshopper-like being in a spacesuit
floating just outside the HMS Goodguy.
     "Oh boy!  Another rescue!" said Mark, "Major bonus points!"
     "Oh shit!  Another passenger," said Rader, "as if it isn't already
crowded enough in here."
     "Shut up, you two.  He's saying something!"
     The floating Wzaxtil spoke: "                   !!!"
     "What??" the four of them screamed at him.
     "                    !!!!!!!!!!!"
     "I think he wants us to let him in." Slave suggested.
     They motioned for him to go to the airlock and finally let the
grasshopper in.
     "Thanks.  And, by the way, I'm not a he.  Us Wzaxtils have four
sexes.  Male, female, neuter, who can neither become pregnant, nor cause
them, and are thus the favorite sexual preference, and phogale, which is
what I am."
     "How do phogales reproduce?" asked Linda.
     "We can become pregnant only on even numbered Tuesdays when both ou
moons are in conjunction, and can cause pregnancies on the second day of
the month."
     "OK, OK, we don't need a biology lesson here.  What are you doing
here and why did you ram my ship?"  Mark demanded.
     "You were in the way.  Now my ship is wrecked.  I need to get to
Wiph.  Want some Gorwiz legs?"  Phe held out some tiny limbs to the
humans.  Then the Wzaxtil stuck two appendages into an orifice in his
chest, which looked suspiciously like an ear, and whistled, to their
surprise, the National Anthem, although it was badly out of key.
     This was too much for Mark, and his brain decided to explode then
and there, creating a mess all about the cabin.  Linda and Rader both
shrieked, wiping the gray gook off of their suits.  Qooth frowned (also
a complex maneuver) and said, "Oh my, did I do that?"
     Linda and Rader lunged at the alien, but were stopped by Natchwald
who said, "Hey, relax, I have a spare brain here."  He reached into his
pocket and pulled out a Acme(tm) Spare Brain - Human Model.  He slapped
it onto the top of Mark's exploded skull, and patched it up with duct
tape.  "Thanks." said Mark.
     "Now," he continued, "why do we have to go to Wiph?"

    Meanwhile, the founder of Spamology, Doctor Von Spleen, was being
pursued by that upholder of Justice, Law, and the Freedom to Obtain
Large Quantities of Money and Sex, Zark Flyby, Second Sargeant
of the Intergalactic Time Police.  Both their craft maneuvered
through the Orion Nebula, exchanging bolts of searing death.  Finally,
the Doctor, tired of this nonsense, opened a communications link to Zark
saying "Here, catch!"
    Zark, displaying his fine command of language, replied "Huh?"
    Von Spleen tossed out a tiny black hole in the general direction of
Zark's ship, then warped into hyperspace with his ABSPAR.  "Ptht," said

    Stay tuned for more, as soon as someone else gets around to posting

***** Entry appended 04:05 on Thu, 01/28/88 by SEIDEL   at USCVM    # 068 *****
Appended 16:49 on 01/28/88 by The Cowboy:

Zark Flyby, Second Sargeant of the Intergalactic Time Police, was not a happy
man.  While in battle with Doctor Von Spleen, the founder of Smamology, Zark
run his ship into the tiny black hole that Doctor Spleen had casually tossed
at him.  "Ptht," Space had said.  "*#$%&*!!!," Zark said soon after.  "BAM...
BOOM...BANG...!!!!" his ship had said as it destroyed itself.

The next thing Zark knew, he was laying on a white, flat stretch of desert.
The desert sand did not taste good, as Zark discovered when he attempted to
stand, and fell back down, head first.  Knowing that there was no way he could
have survived the encounter with the black hole without major help, he began to
search about him for a contrived plot device.  His keen powers of observation
and deduction told him he had found it only seconds after he had tripped over

'It' was a man, or at least resembled a man... a big man.  Zark quickly drew
his Sho-kill ray-pistol, which dissolved in his hand as he tried to fire.  He
began to think he was in trouble, a major accomplishment, as thinking was not
one of his better suits.  "Who are you?" he asked.

"I am Sagemo," answered Sagemo.

"You look familiar," Zark said.  "Are you any relation to Omegas?"  The last
Zark had heard, Omegas was still at large, and still ticked off at a number of
people.  He began to KNOW he was in trouble.

"I am Omegas' evil half," stated Sagemo, more for the benefit of the reading
audience than Zark.  "When the Big Guy took away Omegas' powers and immortality
that energy was cast into the void.  From that energy, I took my form."

Zark took a few moments to think this over.  A few decades would have been
better.  "What do you want from me?" he decided was the best thing to say.

"I require your assistance," replied Sagemo.  "You will help me track down
Doctor Von Spleen.  When we capture him, you will give me his ABSPAR device.
You may have the good doctor.  I believe the Time Police have several warrants
for his arrest."

This argument, in combination with the gigavolt electrical discharge Sagemo had
passing between his hands, convinced Zark to go along with him.  "Okay, you're
on.  How are we going to get off this planet?"

With a wave of his hand, Sagemo caused several thousand cubic feet of sand to
fly up into the air, transform itself into metal, and come together in the form
of Zark Flyby's destroyed ship.  They boarded the craft, and set sail for the

Up in heaven the Big Guy, in the form of a duckbilled platypus, was extremely
displeased by this turn of events.  Bubbu whispered something into his ear,
and the Big Guy was a little less displeased.  With a wave of his hand, he
summoned St. Peter.

For the answers to these questions, wait for someone else to append a new
entry to SFSTORY CSNOTICE, as I have no ideas.

***** Entry appended 16:49 on Thu, 01/28/88 by THC8650  at TNTECH   # 069 *****
Appended 16:00 on 01/30/88 by The Cowboy:

Meanwhile, back on Earth, Omegas, until recently an immortal superbeing and
Satan's righthand man, and further back chief flunky of the Big Guy, and now
chief flunky of the Big Guy again, was doing his good deed for the day by
helping some little old ladies across the street.  He would have been more
helpful if he had asked them if they wanted to cross the street in the first
place.  He was interupted from his work by the sudden appearance of St. Peter,
doorman of heaven and the Big Guy's man-friday.

"The Big Guy just sent word," St. Peter said quickly.  "He wants to see both
of us Up There right away."

"????" replied Omegas.  But before he could form a more specific question, St.
Peter had teleported them.  They materialized in front of a large duckbilled
platypus and the spirit of an overweight New Yorker.

"We have a problem," stated the Big Guy, changing his form from that of a
duckbilled platypus to that of Gene Roddenberry.  "Due to problems in the
space-time continuum, a new writer has surfaced in this CSNOTICE.  He has
written that Omegas' evil double, Sagemo, is actively searching for Doctor
Bing Von Spleen, pioneer of Spamology, with the unwitting (and unwitted) help
of Zark Flyby, a member of the Time Police.  Unless he is stopped, Sagemo will
acquire the ABSPAR device and use it to destroy all life in this universe,
including those beings who are not exactly alive but exist anyway, like us."

He paused, transforming himself into Leonard Nimoy for added effect.  After
lifting an eyebrow, he said "Logically, there is only one possible solution.
Omegas, I am going to return to you your power and immortality.  On one
condition... You seek out and destroy Sagemo, recover the ABSPAR device if he
has captured it, and never give me reason to interfere with your life again."

"That's three conditions," protested Omegas, who was not very fond of the idea
of going up against an evil version of himself, especially since he had always
considered himself evil until very recently.

"Picky, picky, picky..." quoth the Big Guy.  "In any case, be on your way. Now,
Pete, my man.  I want you to set up a local defense here with Bubba."  He
indicated the New Yorker's spirit snoring beside him.  "We have a shipment of
several thousand holy harmonicas arriving today, and here's what I want you to

Omegas, glad to have his powers back, teleported himself to a deserted planet
and practiced, knowing he would have to be at his best to beat himself.  He
was very unaware that he was being watched.

On board his ship, Doctor Bing Von Spleen had monitored the entire conversation
and Omegas subsequent departure via his satellite antenna.  As he switched over
to ESPN (Extra Sensory Perception Network), he swore sofly to himself.  He
swore at Sagemo.  He swore at Omegas.  He swore at Zark Flyby.  And most of all
he swore at the writer, who he thought was making an awful mess of things.  He
began working on a device to get himself out of his predicament.

Meanwhile, Mark Hyperthrust, general hero-type, was breaking in his new brain
being very confused, something he was very good at.  Quooth, the Wzaxtil, had
not yet decided to tell them why they had to get to Wiph.  When asked, phe had
merely whistled an off-tune version of "Tie me Kangaroo down, Boys" and laid a
harmonica on the floor in front of them.  (The reason for this is beyond the
comprehension of the writer, who appeals to Starman to append another story to
get him out of this mess.)

And, on Zark Flyby's Interspacial/Time/Space/Interceptor/Destroyer, Sagemo was
creating a device with would use the ABSPAR device when he had acquired it, and
that would acquire it for him before then.

***** Entry appended 16:00 on Sat, 01/30/88 by THC8650  at TNTECH   # 070 *****
Appended 18:48 on 01/31/88 by Scott McGuire:

Subject:  In which we find something odd on the planet Wiph

     "What about my brother?" asked Radar Vogel, aboard Mark Hyperthrust's
crowded space cruiser.  Originally meant for four humans only, it now
contained four humans and one Wzaxtil.  The Wzaxtil was in fact not only
the cause of the uncomfortable living conditions, but for the group's
derailment from their original mission:  to rescue Steve Vogel, the captain
of the now-destroyed Challenger II.  He had been presumed atomized, but
this hadn't stopped the other two crew members of that spaceship (Linda
and Natchwald) from now being part of the crowding problem on Mark's
space cruiser.
     "Your brother?" asked Mark, his brain dulled further by its recent
     "We're supposed to locate Dr. Bing Von Spleen and use his Automatic
Beet-Peeler and Sub-Atomic Re-Integrator to rescue him.  Remember?"
     "But... but... what about Quooth and phis mission to the planet Wiph?"
asked Mark.  He suspected that mission would net him a better grade than
reconstituting dead space captains.  "Besides," he cleverly added, waving
his arms and whacking Quooth and Natchwald, "there's no room."
     His agitated motions also dislodged a harmonica from his pocket.  It
clattered to the floor, landing right next to the Quooth's harmonica, where
all five of t(p)hem stared at it.
     They were exactly identical.  This seemed to be a great surprise to
Quooth, for he suddenly whistled "Here Comes the Sun."

     In a higher dimension, St. Peter was waiting for the mail.  For all
eternity, it had been delivered to the Pearly Gates at exactly 12:17 every
day.  Not today.  It was a sure sign that the universe was in trouble.  But
anyway, the mail contained a shipment of harmonicas, anxiously awaited
because they would be needed in the battle with Satan that was surely
coming soon, now that harmonicas had been spread all over the universe
again.  To amuse himself, St. Peter was trying to bend the bars of the
pearly gates.
     "Stop it," commanded the archangel Gabriel, who was receiving new
souls.  He had just cleared up the backlog the Peter had created with his
sojourn to Earth.
     St. Peter didn't listen.  He was sure, with only a few more minutes, he
could do it.  He wiped his hands on his robes, puffed, and had a final grab at
the golden bars.  He grunted and sweated, looked up into the sky in agony
(hopefully not looking for support from heaven, as he was already there),
and gave up.
     "Hey, St. Peter, has the mail come yet?" asked Bubba, the former New
Yorker and now Co-Director for the Defense of Heaven.  As Peter looked
around for the mail, Bubba removed a bar and twisted it into a pretzel.
Gabriel nearly roared in anger, but Bubba motioned for silence.  Peter faced
Bubba again and replied, "No."
     "That's too bad," Bubba said, "here, have a pretzel."  Peter took the
twisted bar, and without looking at it, took a bite, breaking his pearly

     "My friends," Quooth quothed, "it is a sign."  He held the two harmonicas
in opposing limbs, holding them up to the single flourescent bulb lighting
Mark's (apparently low-quality) command deck to compare them.  "We now
possess two of the universe's most perfect items."
     "Harmonicas?" Natchwald sneered.  "You don't need ANY, what with your
     "What is it a sign of?" asked Linda, in awe.
     Quooth bobbled his insect head up and down.  "A sign that our pilgrimage
to Wiph will be a success."
     "A good thing," Mark said, visions of A's dancing in his head, "Slave, how
long until we get to Wiph?"
     "Why, we're just there," the computer said.
     "Computer, land us on the planet!"  And it was so.  The cruiser
descended onto a plateau on the northern continent of Wiph, and the five
exited the ship into the humid atmosphere.  The plateau was not a unique
feature of the local geography - the whole place was filled with mesas,
bluffs, and plateaus carved by the elements from dark blue rock.  The
humidity was odd, considering there didn't seem to be any water for miles.
     Quooth fitted one of the harmonicas to his mouth.  "The atmosphere
here contains too much water vapor for one of my race," he explained in a
rush of random notes, "this is one of the many ways the most perfect item
will aid us in success - as a filter."  He offered the second, identical,
harmonica to the group of humans, but they declined.
     On the edge of the plateau, they looked down and saw a spot of pink on
the blue ground.  "A slab of Spam," Radar guessed.  "We'll need that if we
ever find the ABPSAR."
     "How do we get down?" asked Natchwald.  They looked at Mark.
     "Anti-grav belts, right," he declared, running back to the ship.
     Once outfitted, they floated down to the ground next to the pink blob.  It
wasn't Spam, however.  It was a foot.
     "Hey, that foot looks familiar," Linda said.
     Radar considered it.  "Yeah, somehow, it does."
     "It's the captain's!" Natchwald exclaimed.
     "Oh my goodness, you're right!" exclaimed Radar.
     Quooth rotated his head in a way that would have been impossible for
humans to.  "Success was guaranteed to us," he said, polishing the free
harmonica with reverence.  "And yet, our quest is not done."
     "You can say that again," Linda declared, "there's a lot of him missing."

     Dr. Bing Von Spleen knew that he had little time left before Sagemo's
device attempted to take his ABPSAR away, and even if it failed, Sagemo
would probably come after it personally.  He didn't know why these
immortals wouldn't leave him alone.  The Intergalactic Time Police he
could understand, but not Omegas, Sagemo, God, and (he supposed) Satan
too.  Perhaps it was because no one ever left a mad scientist alone.  He led
such a hard life.
     Before he finished his new device to get him out of his current
predicament, he decided to put as much space between where he knew
Sagemo to be.  Out of the freezer he got some honest-to-goodness Spam
from Earth - he wanted the really good stuff this time, not that Neo-spam
crap from the black holes or the food dispenser.  He went to the ABPSAR
and inserted the Spam.  It disappeared, wrapper and all.  Wrapper!!!
     The Doctor had had previous bad encounters with putting anything
besides vegetables and Spam into the device.  And now he'd gone and put a
plaster wrapper in.  He hid under the flight chair with his hands over his
     The ABPSAR flashed, whirred, and engaged.  The spaceship it powered
accelerated into hyperspace, leaving the Milky Way galaxy far behind.  And
there was a small pop right above his head, on the flight chair.  Figuring it
would be better to face the danger instead of hiding beneath it, he stood
up.  On the chair was a human brain and spinal cord.  A little paper tag sat
next to it.  He took it, and read it.  It said, "Hi there!  I'm Steve Vogel's

Will Dr. Von Spleen eliminate Steve's brain, making his return impossible?
Can harmonicas really filter water vapor and guarantee success on
     pilgrimages as well?
Who is Heaven's postman, and why is he late?
Does Heaven have a dentist?

You might find out... next time in SFSTORY CSNOTICE!

***** Entry appended 18:48 on Sun, 01/31/88 by 89SGM    at WILLIAMS # 071 *****
Appended 23:54 on 01/31/88 by The Cowboy:

Subject:  Yes.  Satan, too.

Dr. Bing Von Spleen, founder of the field of spamalogy, was not a happy man.
Due to an accident quite beyond his control (well, actually if he had gotten
more sleep the night before he may have been able to control it) he suddenly
found himself totally outside the galaxy, and in the company of Steve Vogel's
brain and spinal cord.  At least, that's what the tag said.  He was suddenly
very worried about his sanity.

He should have been worried about his behind.  He had some of the most powerful
people in the known universe out to get him.  Let's run thru that list...

1)  Omegas, ex-badguy turned good, out to capture the ABPSAR to keep it from
falling into evil hands.

2)  St. Peter, doorman of Heaven and a real mean guy.  Previously #1's worst
enemy, but now on the same side.  Working with Bubbu, a dead New Yorker, he's
in charge of local defense.

3)  The Big Guy, God, Head Honcho, the list goes on.  Supreme Being and boss
of #1 and #2.

4)  Samego, evil half of Omegas (which is why Omegas is a good guy now).  Out
to destroy all life in the universe, including #'s 1-3.  Worse than Omegas
ever was, and powerful enough to give #3 serious headaches.

5)  Satan, Prince of Darkness and Duke of Smelly Feet.  Just returned from a
vacation in the Bahamas, and, having listened to the messages on his answering
machine, decides he'll have a little talk with Samego...

Zark Flyby's nerve was beginning to give out, not that he had all that much to
begin with.  Samego had been working all night, and his creation was just about
finished.  Zark hated to even look at it.  It appeared to be a tall, dark,
vagely huminoid robot.  It's armaments were formidable:  Sho-Kill death rays,
Megazap atom bombs, electrical can openers, the works.  And those were just the
ones he could identify.  "Hey, buddy," he said to Samego, "What's this thing
supposed to do, anyway?"

"It will destroy anyone who opposes me," said Samego.  "It's ability to destroy
is limited only by the power it can absorb."

"Uh huh," said Zark.  He knew he was missing something, so he turned to the
console and pressed the "explain it to me in words of one syllable, please"
button.  The readout did not look good.  So he wiped off the beer he had
spilled on the monitor, and tried to remember how to read.


Zark decided he was in trouble.  He looked back at Samego, who was just putting
the finishing touches on the robot, and decided to take action.  However, he
fell asleep before taking it.  But, by one of those bizzare plot devices we so
often find in this CSNOTICE, he fell forward onto the controls, hitting the
"eject the bad guys into space" button.  Sagemo and the robot fell out into the
void, but did not fall far, as there was a planet nearby.

The planet's name was Mooe.  It was a desolate, rocky planet with no life and
little atmosphere.  Samego was just picking himself up, cursing heavily, when
the air beside him began to sizzle.  Soon appeared Satan himself. He was not

"I am not pleased, Sagemo," stated Satan, "I mean, planning to destroy all life
in the universe and leaving me out of the fun.  This is my chance to get back
at the Big Guy for kicking me out of Heaven."

"Why did he kick you out?" asked Sagemo, moving so as to put his robot between
himself and Satan.  Even with his powers and his robot, he didn't know if he
could take on the Prince of Darkness just yet.

"He kicked me out for pissing in the swimming pool," Satan mumbled.

"That's hardly fair," said Sagemo, hoping to get on his good side.

"I know," whined Satan, "But he came up there on the high diving board and told
me to zip up and leave..."

Sagemo took this opportunity to hit his robot's "go get 'em" button, whereupon
it launched a massive assault against Satan.  Satan defended himself, and it
seemed like the contest would end a draw, until Sagemo came up behind Satan and
hit him in the head with a rock.

Drawing upon his tremendous powers, Sagemo sent Satan an unknown, but terribly
large, number of years into the future.  "By the time I catch up with him," he
thought, "he won't be able to stop me."  He then sent out his energies to
search for a suitable place to teleport to.  It would just a matter of time...

Meanwhile, back on Wiph, Linda, Mark, Natchwald, and whoever else was there
were trying to locate the rest of Steve Vogel's body, wih limitted success.

"His brain and his spinal cord are missing," said Mark Hyperthrust, feeling
that his good grade was slipping out from between his fingers.

"Well, let's gather the rest," Linda said, "and go looking for Doctor Von
Spleen.  I'm sure the writers will think of something."

Will the writers think of something?
If so, will it be good?
What are Bubba and St. Peter doing up in Heaven right now?
What will Doctor Von Spleen do with Steve Vogel's brain?

I have no idea, I guess we'll just have to wait for the next episode of
SFSTORY... The never-ending science fiction story!!!!!

***** Entry appended 23:54 on Sun, 01/31/88 by THC8650  at TNTECH   # 072 *****
Appended 16:58 on 02/01/88 by Carlo N. Samson:

On the planet Wiph, Quooth and the humans stood around, pondering Steve's
not-quite whole body. Suddenly the insect-alien leaped up and hurried over
to a nearby rocky outcrop. "Phi am phyou as phyou are phe as phwe are phyou
and phwe are all together!" Quooth quipped quickly.


***** Entry appended 16:58 on Mon, 02/01/88 by U09862   at UICVM    # 073 *****
Appended 18:58 on 02/01/88 by The Cowboy:

Subject:  In which Dr. Spleen tries to return

In a place that was not actually a place as it was outside any place that any
place worth being called a place would have placed itself, Doctor Bing Von
Spleen, the galaxy's leading Spamologist, was working on a device to get
himself out of this place.  (Actually, he was cleaning out the inside of his
ABPSAR, but that doesn't sound quite as dramatic.)  He was occasionally helped
and mostly hindered by the brain of one Steve Vogel [which had appeared when he
(Dr. Spleen) had accidentally left the wrapper on the piece of Spam (which
stands for Sickeningly Putrid Artificial Meat) he was feeding into his ABPSAR
device], which he had hooked up to the ship's computer in an attempt to talk to
it.  Perhaps it would talk, but now it was just playing all of Dr. Von Spleen's
"Lanna does Altair IV" movies.

In a much higher dimension, Bubba was unloading several boxes of harmonicas
from a mail truck.  St. Peter would have helped, but he had a dental appoint-
ment.  Archangel Gabriel was trying to fix the Pearly Gates, from which an
unnamed spirit (Bubba, it was Bubba) had recently ripped a bar.  They were
preparing for an attack by Satan, not knowing that Sagemo had already taken
care of Satan, and that he was the one they should be worried about.

Sagemo had just teleported himself and his robot to Wiph, just in time to
meet up with Mark Hyperthrust and his gang.  "Who are you?" asked Mark,
waving his Blastomatic in Sagemo's direction and bravely stepping behind

"I am Sagemo," answered Sagemo, "and this is my robot, whose name is..."
Let's see, what's a good name for something cruel and dangerous whose only
purpose is to cause human suffering?  "...whose name is Andy."

"What do you want?" asked Radar Vogel, slowly backing away.

"I heard you were looking for Doctor Bing Von Spleen," Sagemo stated cooly.
"I also have business with Dr. Spleen.  We're old friends."  Actually, this
is not true, but they didn't know that.

"Look, buddy," Mark said, "We don't have room in our ship for any more
passengers."  Also, he thought but did not say, getting help from you may
adversely affect my final grade.

But about this time, Doctor Von Spleen had finished cleaning the ABPSAR and had
activated it.  It immediately took him to a deserted planet.  Scanning outside,
he found no lifeform readings.  He stepped outside to take a leak, and was
suprised to run into Omegas.  Dr. Spleen passed out.

"I've been waiting for you," Omegas said when he awoke.  "You are in serious
danger.  Sagemo is after your ABPSAR for some unknown reason."

"It's not unknown,"  Spleen snapped, not feeling up to this.  "He plans to use
it to power his robot, which is powerful enough already to take you out."

Omegas caually motioned toward a faraway range of mountains, which winked out
of existance one by one, only to wink back in a few seconds later, upside down.
"Oh, I don't know about that," stated Omegas smugly.  "I've got powers even the
Big Guy doesn't know about."

Is Omegas powerful enough to take on Sagemo and his robot?
Will the harmonicas be powerful enough to protect the Big Guy?
Will Steve Vogel's brain and body ever be reunited?

Who knows?  and for the matter, Who Cares?

***** Entry appended 18:58 on Mon, 02/01/88 by THC8650  at TNTECH   # 074 *****
Appended 23:59 on 02/01/88 by Scott McGuire:

Subject:  In which we find out why Heaven should have insured mail

Despite the recent revelation that the harmonicas arrived at Heaven
unharmed, it is worth examining what made them late.  The blame rests
squarely on Satan, even though he is now safely out of the picture for
a few hundred years.

The name of the current postman who delivered to Heaven was Joe.  He
was merely a normal mortal being whose postal route just happened to
cover the higher dimensions, Heaven being a stop in between Valhalla
and the Elysian Fields.  He was proud that since he had obtained the
route (which was a faily high pay one) he had not been late once,
following in the footsteps of his predecessors.  If he had been aware
of the mind-boggling events taking place in the universe, perhaps he
would have left a little earlier that fateful morning just in case
something untoward happened.  But Joe hadn't been alerted to the
universe's status, even though he saw his youngest son playing a
harmonica the evening before.

After Valhalla, Joe took his lunch break as usual.  It was a ham
sandwich with lots of mustard.  He was startled when another man walked
up to the side of his mail truck and announced, "Hey, that looks
mightly good, but wouldn't it be better with a nice juicy apple?"

He was an unremarkable man, about fifty, wearing a Cincinatti Reds
baseball cap, Levi's jeans and a dirty plaid shirt.  He looked, in
fact, like a man who might run an apple orchard.

"No thanks," Joe said, "I've got one already."  He showed the man the
apple his wife had packed for him.

The apple farmer pulled another apple out of his pocket.  It was
fabulously red, fabulously round, fabulously shiny, and Joe caught a
whiff of its fabulous smell.  "But mine," the farmer insinuated, "is so
much nicer."

Joe had to agree that the farmer's was nicer.  "But I think I'll stick
with mine, thanks."  Joe suspected that this farmer was not what he
seemed.  Probably an officer from the Galactic Postal Commission to see
if postmen accepted bribes.  Personal integrity of postmen was
currently a big issue in the public's eye, and Joe did not wish to be
found wanting, especially considering his route.

"But mine," the man insisted authoritatively, "is more nutritious."

"Kindly stop pestering me," Joe said, "I do not want your apple and
that is that."

"But mine," the man said through clenched teeth, "is magic.  It will
bring you knowledge beyond your wildest dreams."

"And I supose it won't get caught in my throat, either," Joe said,
biting into his own apple.

The farmer tossed it away.  It wasn't even worth lying about that.  Joe
looked at his watch.  "You've made me late!" he cried, jumping into the
truck, forgetting any apple.  He started his engine.

There was a rush of flames and the engine of the mail truck (really a
trans-dimensional spaceship, but for our purposes, a mail truck) melted
into slag.  "Don't mess with me, boy," the farmer snapped, suddenly
carrying a smoking pitchfork, "I'm the devil!"

Joe considered that he was now going to be very late.  "What do you
want?" he asked with fear, for he was only a normal mortal being.

"Give me all the mail addressed to Heaven."

"No can do," Joe said.  "It's not yours."

Satan turned Joe into a fly, and himself into a frog.  He spoke
inbetween tongue flicks, "I said, don't mess with me, I'm the DEVIL!"
He flicked very close to Joe.

"You'll have to eat me to get it," the fly squeked.

Mortals gave Satan indigestion, so he had to try a different tack.  He
transformed Joe into a slab of Spam, and himself back into his usual
horned self.  "You know that there's a great demand for Spam these
days," he told the spam, which actually didn't (see above), "and I'm
going to sell you here and now unless you let me have at least that big
package addressed to Heaven."

The spam said nothing, for spam has no mouth.  Satan realized this, and
made Joe a slab of spam with a head.  "What do you want with the damned
big package?" Joe swore (he'd dropped the package onto his foot earlier
this morning and then now this).

"Do NOT imply that I endorse those things in the package," Satan
roared, turning Joe into a Rubik's cube and scrambling him into an
unsolvable pattern.  "Just let me HAVE THEM!!!" he screamed, incoherent
with rage.

It was at this point that Omegas, on his way to save Dr. Bing Von
Spleen from Sagemo, walked by, saying to himself, "I have this strange
desire to be good."  He saw the mailtruck, he saw Satan, and he saw the
unsolvable Rubik's cube.  He exclaimed, "What have you done?"

The devil laughed evilly.  "Why, I've taken a piece out and put it in
backwards."  He stepped into the truck to take the package of
harmonicas.  Omegas, meanwhile, took the Rubik's Cube and used his
cosmic powers to figure out which piece was out of place, then more
comic powers to unscramble the cube, and finally to transform Joe.  He
walked into the truck and tapped Satan on the back.  The devil turned
with a sneer, and Omegas blasted him with a shower of daisys.  Satan
disintegrated.  Omegas waved to Joe, and wandered off to his meeting,
whistling the theme to Sesame Street.

Joe took his cellular phone and called for a replacement truck.


We now return to the present, where Omegas was displaying his not
inconsiderable power to Dr. Von Spleen, and also where, on the planet
Wiph, Sagemo was talking to Mark Hyperthrust and his fellow pilgrims.

"I can see into your mind," he told Mark Hyperthrust, "and I can
guarantee that if you help me, there will be no problem with your

"But there really isn't any room in the ship," Mark simpered.

Sagemo waved his arm and the cockpit of Mark's ship doubled in size.
"Let us go."

"Oh mighty one," Quooth said, "we may not depart yet in any case.  Our
pilgrimage is unfinished."  He wiggled his grasshpper head in a figure

"But we've got my brother, mostly," Radar said.

Quooth bent his carapace to look at the inert body of Steve Vogel, also
held together by duct tape.  He sighed, accidentally playing
Beethoven's Fifth on his harmonica.  "This," he said slowly, "this is
not our destiny."  He held his second harmonica up to his six eyes.  He
scanned the horizon with them.  "With this most perfect instrument, I
can see the Temple we must pay homage to.  It is there, that we shall
go."  He started off in the direction of a plateau that from above
would appear to have the shape of the Mandelbrot set.

Mark Hyperthrust knew where the priorities lay.  Given a choice between
infuriating an immortal so vile that milk left out a week in 100 degree
temperatures would pale in comparison, and not helping a whacked out
bug complete a religious quest, he knew which was the right choice.
Whacked-out bugs were worth a one letter grade increase.  He looked
Sagemo squarely in the eyes, and shrugged his shoulders.  "Sorry."  The
four humans followed Quooth, dragging the body of Steve behind them.

"Good help is so hard to find these days," Sagemo said to Andy.  "We'll
do it ourselves."  He started to program the killer robot.


"You know, Doctor," Omegas said pleasantly, returning the mountains to
their proper orientation and adding snow to them for the benefit of any
skiers, "I feel like being nice to everybody.  Even you."

Spleen was disgusted.  "You used to be an evil being, Omegas."

"True," Omegas said sadly, "but I had a very good lecture from a dog,
and then all my evil has been sucked away into Sagemo.  Now, I want to
be nice and good and helpful."  He turned to smile sillily at Dr. Von
Spleen.   "How can I be of help to you?  Just say it."

"Stop being an idiot and act quickly then," the Doctor snarled.  Then,
an idea came to him.  "Did you ever watch Earth television?
Specifically, Star Trek?"  Omegas nodded.  "Didn't you ever see the
episode where Capt. Kirk was split into two parts, one good and one
evil?" he continued.  "The good Kirk had no evil, and he was nice to
everone.  But he became weaker without his evil self, and more
indecisive.  Eventually, he was no use to anyone.  And I'll bet the
same thing is going to happen to YOU!"

Omegas knew the Doctor was right.  Action had to be taken while there
was still time.  "I'll get the ABPSAR," he cried, dashing into Dr. Von
Spleen's spaceship, "and take it to the Big Guy, where it will be safe,
for already Heaven prepares to defend itself.  Then Sagemo will stop
following you."  He smiled at how good the plan was.

They entered the cockpit just in time to see an evil black robot
removing both the ABPSAR and Steve Vogel's brain.  It then

"My life, my work!" Spleen bawled.

But Omegas knew the true seriousness of the situation.  "Sagemo's won!"

Will Steve's brain be damaged from rough handling?
Can a harmonica be a set of binoculars as well as all those other
   things it's been?
Will St. Peter be back from the dentist in time for the fireworks?
Yes, can it be that doomsday is here at last?

All this and more... next time in SFSTORY CSNOTICE!

***** Entry appended 23:59 on Mon, 02/01/88 by 89SGM    at WILLIAMS # 075 *****

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