Sfstory Log 009

=========================================================================
Subject:     Where we find out Varneywoop's fate
From:        Eric, Lord Sabre |-}---------- (enll6ac at bostonu)

     Muck-Luck and Matthew looked at the strange intruder who had stepped
into the TARDIS while they were bobbing through the time vortex, trying
desperatly to find some way to find various sundry equipment to repair
its navigational capacity and get back to the Timelord known as the
Intern.  He stood up, and straightened his jacket.
     "Right, good day!  And what beings are you to have the pleasure
of my companionship?"
     Matthew, a very nice guy and still ignorant of proper space ettiquette
said cheerfully, "Well now, I'm Matt DeForrest, president of Danielson
hall at Boston University, and this is--"
     "Matt," said Muck-Luck curtly, "do shut up before I singre your
voicebox.  Who are you?"
     "I just said, I'm Matt DeForrest, pres--"
     "NOT you.  You." he said, pointing at the intruder.
     "Ah, I am G. X. P. Varneywoop, name-maker.  And you?"
     "Muck-Luck."
     "Muck-Luck?  Not a very impressive name."
     Muck-Luck's eyes darkened.  "And if I said I liked it?"
     "Hah, my good fellow, I am the expert here--FFFFLLLLAAAAUUUUGGGGHHHHH"

     Matt stared as Muck-Luck (having logged onto his secondary account,
annialator at executionvax5) ripped every proton, neutron, and electron
out of Varneywoop's body, and flung them out into millions of miles
of space and billions of years of time, utterly destroying Varneywoop.
     "W-Why'd you do that?"  Matt said, painfully aware of the number
of times he had annoyed Muck-Luck.
     "Firstly, because I hate people who insult my name.  Secondly, there
are far too many characters in this story as it is, thirdly, no doubt
Jeff, Scott, Andy, or the Cowboy will re-intergate him in one of their
postings.  Fourthly, I don't really think their stories will intersect
with ours again at least until we find the Intern and the rest of the
group, and attempt to find Mark Hyperthrust who has been seperated
from them."
     "Wow, how do you know all that?"
     "I'm omniscent, remember?"
     "Oh, yeah.  So, like, how long before we get the TARDIS fixed? You
must know that!"
     "I do."
     "So--?"
     "If I told you now, why would anyone bother reading Eric's postings?"
     "Oh, right."


WILL THE DIFFERENT STORIES INTERSECT?
WILL MATT BE DESTROYED?
WILL VARNEYWOOP BE SAVED?
WILL ANYONE READ ERIC'S (MY) POSTINGS?
WILL ANYBODY---FFFFLLLLLLIIIIIAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!


Hello, Muck-uck here.  Just vaporised Eric, as I was getting sick of
that annoying stream of hyperbole he was spouting to spark interest.
Do go on with it.

***** Entry appended 19:05 on Sat, 02/27/88 by enll6ac at bostonu   # 105 *****
=========================================================================
Subject:     Love, divinity, and EVIL'S RESURGANCE
From:        Eric, Lord Sabre -}------------ (enll6ac at bostonu)

     The Intern sat on Radar Vogel's bed, massaging her bare back with
expert hands.
     "Well, what you're telling me then," said Radar, in a very sultry,
excited voice, "is that you were assigned to find Mark Hyperthrust and
complete his assignments?  Why?"
     The Intern chuckled.  "He's been gone 'way too long from Intersteller
U.  Heck, he was only supposed to be out practicing emergancy lightspeed
jumps while under fire.  He had been given an assignment--find at least
one DiD and aid her in a quest.  However, he had until the end of the
semester to do it, and he was supposed to inform us about it.  I was
supposed to get him out of whatever he had gotten himself into."
     "And now the HMS Goodguy's been destroyed, your TARDIS has been stolen,
and my SSR has teleported Mark to some unknown space?"
     "You got it, oh pretty one."
     "Oh good."  Radar turned over.  "You know, Intern.  I really thought
I was in love with Mark, but I figured out I just enjoyed jumping him."
     "Oh, really?"
     "Yeah.  Even that was wearing thin--he was just a Freshman, after all."
     "Go on...."  The Intern began to massage Radar's shoulders and neck,
leaning forward and looking into her eyes.
     "Well, its just...I'm not a very nice person, and I never thought I'd say
this...."
     "Yes?"
     "But I really don't care if we boff."
     The Intern stopped dead.  He blushed bright magenta.  "Ah," he said,
letting go of her.  "I'm, er, sorry...."
     "No no!  I'm not saying I wouldn't WANT to," she smiled coyly, "I just,
well, want to BE with you, instead of just gyrate with you.  I'd rather be
with you than, than--hell, than be the world's foremost Spamologist!"
     "Radar!" said the Intern, shocked and touched by her admission.
     "I guess....I guess I love you."
     The two kissed softly, and quietly, as the lights dimmed to one quarter
and theme music arose.
     In heavan, God, Gabrial, and St. Peter were watching.  God was still in
the form of Optimus Prime.
     "Touching, isn't it?"  Asked Gabrial.
     St. Peter snorted.  "Cruel trick for you to play on them, I say!  Making
the world's most sexually active woman fall head-over-heels in love with a
timelord!  I like it--its nasty!"  St. Peter grinned a nasty grin.
     God (Optimus) shrugged--a difficult thing for a machine.  "I have some
business to attend to.  St. Peter, you're in charge--and be careful, Omegas
has been reactivated AND reunitted with Sagemo.  He may well be back to his
old self.  Don't make any hostile action against him unless he does something
stupid--like changing the book!  Also--no action is to be taken against
Zark Flyby, Time Agent 357, Bubba, Ralph, Mark Hyperthrust, Natchwald,
or Muck-Luck--and no FURTHER action is to be taken against Radar or the Intern
unless one or any of those fools should do more damage to the space time continu
or unless one of the other authors of SFSTORY does it."
     "What about that goody-goody DeForrest, and Linda."
     "DeForrest and Linda, I'll deal with.  I have a few ideas in mind...."
with that, God Transformed and rolled out.
     St. Peter grinned that nasty grin.  "All right then," he said, "If I'm
in charge...lets see if we can't make a few changes...."
     Gabrial groaned...he could tell it was not going to be a banner year
for heavan.
     Back in Boston, Natchwald and Linda showed up at the BU Spamology
department, having been dispatched to find and deactivate Radar's SSR.
Actually, they had been more like thrown out of the apartment while the two
gyrated.
     "Hey," said Linda, "Its GONE!!!!!!"
     "Yeah, yeah" said Natch.  "I  figured it would be."
     "Oh, how?"
     "Be-CAUSE, if it hadn't disappeared, we'd have been able to stop it,
and end this little section of SFSTORY real fast.  Hey, lets just split."
     "Split?"
     "Yeah--its a sure bet Radar and the Intern Don't want us around, the
Captain has brains of guacomole, and we finally made it back to Earth.  Lets
go to some hotel and make children--the story could use a few less
characters anyway!"
     Linda shook her head, almost near tears.  "But, isn't any of this
important to anyone?  The whole universe could be destroyed if we don't do
something!"
     Natchwald shhok his head.  "Baby, you have ALWAYS pretended like the
universe is gonna treat you and anything else fair-like!  Well, hon, it ain't!
Get used to it!"
     "NO!!!!"  Linda ran outside of the building, crying.
     In the devestated kitchen of Radar's apartment, Steve Vogel quietly
laughed.  "The fools--I have them all convinced I am mad--they have no idea
that finally, Satan has found a suitable host body to return to this time.
Sagemo is no longer a threat to my plans, God has flown the coop, and I have
managed to drive this group of erstwhile heros apart.  Now, nothing can
stop me."
     He drew the SSR, a manuel-egg beater shaped device with a pound of
spam at its base in a wire holder--its upper tongs whirring away, out of his
pocket.  "Now, to place this--the device that will shatter all of space and
time--where no one will find it!"
     The SSR vanished.  Satan Vogel smiled again, and mentelly summoned
Natchwald--now completly under his control.  God had broken his link with
Radar by having her fall in love with the Intern.  Satan also could not touch
Linda's mind because of Linda's basiclly good nature.  But both Natch and
Muck-Luck were totally his--even if they didn't realise it.
     Linda stopped running, and sat down on a park bench.  She knew her only
friends didn't care if all the universe died, and she was feeling the
poigent tears rise in her again.  What did it all matter?
     She heard a truck honk, and looked up.
     In front of her was a red mack truck, its door open.  The voice of the
TransFormer named Optimus Prime came out of it saying, "could you use a lift?"

No tag line tonight guys.  After all, they are a bit overused.  However, do
if you would, why God is hanging out with Linda now, why Satan, in Steve's
body, wants to destroy the universe, what St. Peter will do in charge of heaven,
and just how Muck-Luck and Matthew fit into all this--and tune in to the
next installment of SFSTORY (where available)

***** Entry appended 20:45 on Sun, 02/28/88 by enll6ac at bostonu   # 106 *****
=========================================================================
Subject:     More on 357 and co.
From:        The Cowboy (THC8650 at TNTECH)

Interstellar Time Agent 357 set his ship down on a strange planet.  He
looked out and wondered at the trees walking around sniffing at dogs that
were rooted to the ground.  He pulled out his Scan-o-matic and checked for
the presence of lifeforms.  No sign of Zark Flyby or G.X.P. Varneyloop LXVII.

Knowing that his instruments could not possibly be mistaken, he decided that
Flyby and Varneyloop must be nearby, so he sent out Bubba (Death merchant
from Hell and all around nice guy) and Ralph (Ukulele playing weaseloid from
Anthrax V) to look for them.  Ralph did not return, but radioed back that he
had discovered a large colony of female weaseloids, and had decided that all
those years in nether-space taking vitamin E had finally paid off.  Bubba
did return, reporting that there appeared to be battle going on on the
horizon.  357 launched the ship and flew toward the battle.

The battle ended up being a solitary member of the Time Police, who was
apparently blasting trees and dogs at random.  He was having such a good
time that he failed to notice the ship that almost landed on top of him.
Inside, 357 started giving orders.

"All right, Bubba," he ordered.  "Grab a gun and let's stop him before he
wrecks half the planet.  You, too, Mark Hyperthrust.  It's time you started
earning your keep."

This did not please Mark Hyperthrust, as stopping a berzerk Time Police
officer was way too risky for the 5-point bonus he would get on "good
deeds."  But the very large pistol carried by agent 357 did not brook any
disagreement.  Mark quietly vomitted in the corner and followed the others
out, praying for a miracle.

Mark had already had his miracle for that day, so it was only blind luck
that had caused Zark Flyby to run out of ammo just as the group approached
him.  "What the Hell do you think you're doing?" asked 357.

"Huh?" said Zark, who, having stopped killing things, was at a loss for
words and totally confused.  Again.

"Who are you?" asked 357, beginning to wonder just how badly the Time Police
had deteriated since he left them.  Luckily, that was a question Zark could
answer.

"I am Zark Flyby, Second Lieutenant of the Interstellar Time Police," he
boomed, as he loved to boom out his name and rank for no particular reason.

"Where is G.X.P. Varneyloop LXVII?"

"Would you believe he crawled into a beer keg and disappeared?"

"Since there's no way a brain such as yours could have made that up, I guess
I'll have to."

Bubba, feeling left out, decided to put in "357, did you say that Varneyloop
was a member of the Time Police, also?"

"Not exactly.  You see, in his future (but my past) he will be (or rather
was) my future (or is it past?) partner."

"I see," said Bubba, falling to the ground.  He was followed quickly by Zark
Flyby, whose brain was even less able to cope with the paradoxes of time
travel.  Mark Hyperthrust took this opportunity to sneak back into the ship
and hide.  357 was debating what to do when he caught a glimpse of a strange
looking man in a white Spamologist jacket on the hill above.  He instantly
recognized the man as Doctor Bing Von Spleen.

"Halt!" shouted 357.  "I want to have a word with you!"

In response, Doctor Spleen gave 357 the Time Police salute, slightly altered
by placing the thumb on the nose, and shoving a slab of Spam into the
strange apparatus laying on the ground at his feet.  The Doctor and the
device slowly faded out of existance, which peeved 357 to no end.  With a
muffled curse, he carried Bubba abd Zark into his ship and set off in
pursuit of the Doctor.

Meanwhile, back in nether-space, a tall, blue-skinned humanoid was
materializing....

Will 357 ever catch Doctor Spleen?
Will Ralph be happy with 500 female weasels who all experience PMS at
exactly the same time?
What are Quooth and Omegas up to on Stix (Styx?) [Sticks?] ?
etc.

***** Entry appended 23:06 on Sun, 02/28/88 by THC8650 at TNTECH    # 107 *****
=========================================================================
Subject:     How Satan returned....
From:        The Cowboy (THC8650 at TNTECH)

Doctor Bing Von Spleen, the galaxy's cleanest-complexioned Spamologist,
travelled through space in time without a ship, protected only by his
reality-altering ABPSAR Mark II.  In close pursuit was Time Agent 357, in a
ship that he had purchased from the Doctor some years before (or after, it's
real complicated).  Between the two large eddies appeared in the time
stream, partly because the ABPSAR was not properly tuned, but mostly because
Ralph had left the microwave oven on.

At about this time (sic) they intercected the path of a very powerful
immortal, travelling forward in time due to the dual effects of the power of
another immortal (now deceased) and a blast from a temporal destabilizer
gun fired by one Time Agent 357.  This intercection was disturbing to all
involved.  The fabric of space and time itself ripped apart with the sound
of one hundred sets of fingernails scratching an equal number of blackboards.
Then, with the sound of one hundred books being slammed shut the way the
librarian always told you never to slam your books shut, the fabric of space
and time put itself back together.  In the small interval of time between
these two events, the following happened.

Satan, Prince of Darkness and Duke of Smelly Feet, found himself free of the
effect of the forces that were propelling him through time.  Quickly grasping
the situation, and shaking some sense into it, he decided to use it to his
advantage.  He attempted to place those he found himself with under his
control, but he was unsuccessful.  The Doctor was too involved in his work
to allow Satan into his mind.  Satan was afraid to mess with Time Agent 357
again.  Mark Hyperthrust and Zark Flyby were engrossed in a their mutual
hobby of underwater basket weaving, which totally occupied their collective
intelligence.  Bubba, previously a servant of Satan, was wise to his tricks
and told him to f*ck off.

The only thing Satan could do was use the forces unleashed around him to send
himself back in time to where he belonged.  He arrived somewhere around
Portland, Maine on a dreary little planet.  He stood, brushed himself off,
and was congratulating himself when a large mountain of Spam materialized on
top of him.  Luckily, at the last instant he transferred himself into the body
of a man who had materialized on top of the Spam:  one Steve Vogel.  The
rest of the story has been told elsewhere.

*Question has been  raised as to why Satan  could not have  returned to the*
*past by himself.   After all, he is a very powerful immortal.   The answer*
*to this is simple:   As an immortal (that is, one who exists independently*
*of time) he would have no need for time travel.  He existed and does exist*
*and shall exist and therefore  doesn't need to travel in time.   Without a*
*need, he never developed time travel, and thus was easy prey for an ABPSAR*
*assisted immortal  and a time agent with advanced technology.   Satan has,*
*however,   used  the  SSR  to  make  sure  it  will  never  happen  again.*

Time Agent 357 cursed as he slammed his ship out of TIME mode.  Using his
supernaturally acute instincts, aided by blind luck and a few unused
miracles he had laying around, he narrowly avoided hitting a supernova, and
managed to limp his crippled ship into orbit around a barren little world.
The galactimap identified it as Stix, which lacked the space-faring
technology necessary to be of aid.  357 began activating some standby
equipment as Zark Flyby and Mark Hyperthrust (straight from their hobby)
came forward and stared out the viewport.

"Don't just stand there dripping," 357 barked.  "Help me out!"

"What are you trying to do?" asked Mark, the nominally more intelligent of
the two.

"I'm activating the Time Viewer so I can find out what just happened, and
maybe where the Doctor went off to....  There, let's try that."

On the main viewer, dinosaurs appeared, only to die out and be replaced by a
city, which disappeared in a puff of radioactive smoke.  "Gotta fix that
fast forward," muttered 357, pressing buttons at random.  "Hmmmmm..."

The reason he said "Hmmmmm..." is because the viewer now showed the cockpit
of a time vehicle.  Sitting at the wheel was a retired time agent.  Standing
behind him were an Interstellar U student and the spirit of an overweight
New Yorker.  357 turned to his companions, noticing that on the screen the
time agent turned to his companions, also.

"I don't get," said Mark, making the appropriate "I don't get it" motions
with his shoulders.  "When does this happen?"

"It's happening now," said 357, obviously enjoying himself.

"Now?  What happened to then?"  asked Zark Flyby.

"We missed it."

"When?"

"Just now."

With a muffled thump, Zark Flyby hit the floor, his brain no longer able to
cope.

"Let me see if I've got this straight," said Mark.  "When will then be now?"

"Then will never be now; we've already past it."

"Then when will now be then?"

"Soon," said 357, noticing that Mark had joined Zark on the floor.  He
suddenly looked troubled, as he had just noticed that he hadn't heard from
Bubba since the accident.  He dialed the Time Viewer and attempted to find
him.

Meanwhile, the Doctor and his now Spamless ABPSAR materialized.  The Doctor
didn't know where he was, but was very thankful that he was somewhere.

"Hi, doc," said Bubba.  "Welcome to Nether-space."

"I say," said the tall, blue-skinned humaniod, "Don't you think 'Bubba' is
just a tad too glutteral of a name for a spirit of your bearing?"

What does Satan have in mind now that he has returned?
Did Eric check with Jeff before bringing an immortal back into SFSTORY?
Does the recently re-united Omegas still have his powers and immortality?
How will Doctor Spleen escape from Nether-space without Spam?
If you can read this, you don't need glasses.

For the answers, tune into the next fun-filled episode of M*A*S*H....

***** Entry appended 15:06 on Mon, 02/29/88 by THC8650 at TNTECH    # 108 *****
=========================================================================
Subject:     In which we find something stranger than Spam
From:        Scott McGuire (89SGM at WILLIAMS)

    "So you going to help me or not, bug?" Omegas snarled from the
lake, where a fin was advancing on him.

    Quooth did want to help him, as phe thought it rude to ignore a
direct request, even one phrased in such a rude manner from what
appeared to be a throughly rude life form.  The problem was that phis
grasshopperoid form did not allow phim to bend down through the hole
and reach out with one of phis arms.  Phe would need alternative means
- and as phe glanced around, phe saw those means tied to a dock post.

    Meanwhile, the mouth attached to the fin attacked Omegas's arm.
Fortunately, it was a small fin-being and thus couldn't devour Omegas
in one gulp, but its teeth were sharp and it seemed like it would
settle for a little bite at a time.  Omegas screamed, "Ouch," much as
any being would in a similar situation.  "Where's that bug gone to?" he
muttered.

    Quooth brought the rope back and lowered it through the hole.
Omegas roared at it at first, assuming it to be another carnivorous
fish, but when he saw it was a rope, he grabbed it and hauled himself
up through the hole he'd made.  The fin-being was still attached to his
arm.  "Is this a companion of yours?" Quooth asked.

    Omegas took hold of it by the tail and wrenched.  It came off,
leaving a few of its very sharp teeth in his arm, and he tossed it
away.  "No," he said, ignoring the teeth because it was below a being
such as him to be bothered by such mundane things, "it's not."  He
stared at the Wzaxtil.  "Where are we?  Who are you?"

    "I know not our location," Quooth replied, "but I am Quooth, a
Wzaxtil.  I am honored to have you join me on my quest."

    "Now hang on a second, bug, what quest?  All I want is a bath and
then I'm 'porting off this ugly little planet," Omegas said.

    Quooth took phis harmonica from phis mouth.  "The quest this most
perfect object has brought me on.  You may use it to clean yourself
off," phe said.

    Omegas took it.  "Oh, it's one of those bloody harmonicas," he
said, and tossed it away.  Quooth was horrified for a second, but then
phe saw that the harmonica was looping around and returning to Omegas's
hand.  SMACK!  Omegas stared at it in his hand.  "Hey, I threw this
away," and he hurled it with all his immortal might.  It went a short
distance before snapping back like a boomerang.  Omegas stared at it
again.  "This is pretty impressive."

    "It is the most perfect object in the universe," Quooth told him
again.  "And it's mine," phe added, just to avoid possible
misunderstandings.

    Omegas shrugged and began to scrape his skin with it.  Where it
touched, the dirt, soot, and water came away; it even shaved his face.
Soon he was totally refreshed and returned it to Quooth.  "Okay," he
said, accepting Quooth as leader for the moment, "what next?"

    Quooth waved three arms towards the hills.  "We head there."

    "Not without a change of clothes first," Omegas announced, and he
tried to conjure up some clothes.  Nothing happened.  "Damn, am I
mortal AGAIN?" he yelled.  "I at least need something for my feet!"  He
concentrated, and a pair of winged sandals appeared.  Muttering
something about style, he put them on, and t(p)hey headed for the
hills.

------------------------------

    "Does the harmonica turn into a boat too?" asked Omegas as the two
faced a large, grey river; the hills which Quooth had phis heart set on
were on the other side.  Quooth bobbled his head in a negative fashion.
"Hey, wait, here's a sign!"

                        THE GREAT RIVER OF STIX

"I don't like the sound of that."  He glanced around, and found what he
feared:  a hooded man with gnarled hands was approaching them.  Curses,
Omegas thought, not only was he mortal but he was DEAD.  And his
companion for eternity was an insane bug.  This was really bad.

    "Would you like to take the ferry, gentlemen?" an aged humanoid
asked, removing the hood.

    "Yes, kind one, it would aid us," Quooth answered.

    "Pardon?" the old man said, apparently hard of hearing.  Which was
strange, considering that he had four ears.

    Quooth's voice didn't lend itself to loudness, but phe inhaled, and
tried as loud as he could, "Yes, kind but slightly deaf one, it would
aid us."

    "Eh?" The ferryman cupped three hands to his ears.

    "He said YES!" shouted Omegas.

    "Oh, and have you money?" asked the ferryman.

    "What passes for money on this planet?"

    "Teeth of the small fin-beings."

    Omegas plucked a few out of his arm.  "These do?"

    "Eh?"  Omegas just handed them to him, and there was understanding.

------------------------------

    As t(p)hey tramped through some ugly grey underbrush, Omegas
commented, "I don't think there's any technology on this planet."

    "The path of technology does not necessarily lead to eternal
happiness," Quooth philosiphized.

    "Yeah, I'll bet this path doesn't either.  But technology gives us
spaceships to allow us to leave stupid, boring planets."

    It was not worth telling the rude one that they *were* following
the path to eternal happiness, but there was something about technology
that had just come to his notice.  "It also produces guns that can
prevent much happiness."

    "What makes you think of that?"

    "The being not from this planet that has been following us with a
gun," Quooth replied.  Omegas started and looked over his shoulder.
The Wzaxtil continued, "But I beleive we will come to no harm if we
follow our present course."

    "Why's that?"

    "We are entereing its lair."  And they entered a clearing, in which
there was a large metal structure obviously constructed by technology.
There were radio antennas, a laser cannon or two, and Omegas's eyes
gleamed at several spacecraft.  Quooth whistled three notes of
greeting.  "Those not of this planet, we are seekers of knowledge.  We
bring you no harm."

    From behind them, a strange purple being like an ameoba on legs
with large cartoon eyes left the forest, carrying a ray gun in its
pseudopod.  "We too are seekers of knowlegde," it said, "and this is
our research station."  The ray gun disappeared into its membrane.

    "What the heck is there to research on this dump?"

    "We research not it, but in nearby space there is an entrance to a
subuniverse that we wish to study.  It is an odd subuniverse in that
once you enter it, you must continue travelling in the direction you
entered until you come out the other side.  We call it The Bend.  We
study the odd structure of time/space there, from the safety of
outside."

    "Yeah, it sounds like a difficult place to visit."

    "None of our researchers have ever returned from it," pointed out
the ameoboid.

    "But nevertheless it is where we shall go for our quest," Quooth
said.

    Omegas turned blue in the face.  "You want us to go search a
one-way universe from which no one has ever returned?  Oh, get with it,
bug!"  He turned to the ameoboid.  "Do you have the coordinates of the
other end?"  It nodded.  "All right, bug, tell you what.  I'll fly a
spaceship there, and look in that end, and you can stay here and look
in this end.  How's that sound?"

    "Rude and stupid one," Quooth said, losing phis patience, "you fell
from the sky to accompany me on my quest, and you may not shirk the
call!  We shall enter this Bend, and continue our quest!"  He turned to
the ameoba.  "Our cause requires one of your ships."

    The ameoboid shrugged.  "All right, but report back to us.  Your
trip could be invaluable."

    "We shall," Quooth said.  Phe took Omegas by the cuff and dragged
him to a ship, whistling "Stairway to Heaven."  Omegas, in rebuff,
whistled "Hotel California."  The spacecraft took off, carrying them to
their destiny.

What is their destiny?
Will it be a little less serious than this episode?
What is life like in the Bend, and does one get a ticket if one can
    somehow go the wrong way?

Find out when we join Quooth and Omegas next time in SFSTORY CSNOTICE!

***** Entry appended 15:44 on Mon, 02/29/88 by 89SGM at WILLIAMS    # 109 *****
=========================================================================
Subject:     One more thing....
From:        The Cowboy (THC8650 at TNTECH)

In orbit around Stix, a desparate time agent finally located something on
his Time Viewer.  He saw that Bubba, Doctor Von Spleen, and his past/future
partner G.X.P. Varneyloop LXVII were located in Nether-space.  He couldn't
be sure, but it looked like they were attempting to fuel an ABPSAR with two
deviled neo-Spam sandwiches that Bubba had fixed for lunch.  357 wished them
luck, as he couldn't do anything to help them even if had wanted to.  He
went back to the engine room to supervise Mark Hyperthrust and Zark Flyby
supervising the ship ship repairing itself.

If he had stayed to watch a few seconds longer, he would have seen a trio
dematerialize and free themselves from Nether-space.  If he had stayed even
longer, he would have seen an odd shaped egg-beater with a wire basket full
of Spam underneath materialize.  Obviously, the former were Bubba, the
Doctor, and Varneyloop, while the latter was Radar Vogel's SSR, now totally
forgotten by its inventor, who was currently engaged in teaching the Intern
all the steps to the Tijuana Tango.

Back in the engine room, Mark Hyperthrust was ecstatic.  "Wow!  Repairing a
damaged Time Vessel.  A ten-point bonus on 'mechanical aptitude.'"

"I'm going to take a ten-point deduction from your rear end if you don't
stop sitting on my hypertechnical orange thingy," growled 357, entering the
engine room.  "How's it look, Zark?" he asked of the Interstellar Time
Police lieutenant, who was under the console and working on the stardrive,
or so 357 assumed.

"Snore...." said Zark, proving that 357 had assumed wrongly.  After making
sure the inept duo had not damaged anything further and were not interfering
with the ship's automatic repair circuits, he went back to the cockpit of
his sturdy craft.  He flipped off the Time Viewer without looking at the
screen (you'll be sorry) and unpaused the tape of the Annual Nude Volleyball
Champoinship Playoffs, in which Radar Vogel had just landed spread-eagle on
the judges table.  Her activities there would later win her the "Best
Player" award, even though her team eventually lost....

The Doctor, Bubba, and Varneyloop travelled through space and time, being
thoughtful, worried, and scared shitless, respectively.  The ride was a tad
rough, due to the low quality of the deviled neo-Spam that was powering the
ABPSAR.  The Doctor did not mention to his companions that he had no idea
where or when they were going, or how long the trip would take.

Doctor Bing Von Spleen suddenly had a revelation.  The Secret Meaning of
Life suddenly inserted itself into his mind.  He was overjoyed.  He turned
to his equally enlightened companions, who were smiling just as broudly as
he was, and opened his mouth to say something.

Unfortunately, we will never know what he was about to say, because at that
moment they all hit an exploding supernova (I suppose a non-exploding
supernova is an impossibility) and stopped in the exact center of it.
There, the ABPSAR field died, and, 0.02 microseconds later, so did they-

Up in heaven, St. Peter was shaking his head, mumbling "No, that's no good.
Let's try something else."  He picked up his Holy Eraser and scratched out
his last entry in The Book.  "Now let's see...."

The Doctor, Bubba, and Varneyloop travelled through space and time, being
thoughtful, worried, and scared shitless, respectively.  The ride was a tad
rough, due to the low quality of the deviled neo-Spam that was powering the
ABPSAR.  The Doctor did not mention to his companions that he had no idea
where or when they were going, or how long the trip would take.

Up in heaven, Archangel Gabriel was reading over St. Peter's shoulder.
"That was a nasty thing to do," he told him.

"Thanks," said St. Peter, closing The Bo-

***** Entry appended 16:20 on Mon, 02/29/88 by THC8650 at TNTECH    # 110 *****
=========================================================================
Subject:     In which we come to the flarst planet of the Bend - part 1
From:        Scott McGuire (89SGM at WILLIAMS)

    The small spacecraft flew through space away from the planet Stix.
"What exactly do you suppose the entrance look like?" asked Omegas, who
was piloting the ship.  No wonder the bug had wanted him along.

    "I know not now, but we shall recognize it when we see it," Quooth
said with the quiet assurance usually only afforded to those that have
a security blanket to hold onto.  Quooth was grasping phis harmonica
lovingly, which perhaps gave phim a similar assurance.  Then on the
viewerscreen a sight that would have bothered even a cosmic string
theoretician appeared - a five-parsec diameter circle, perfectly round
and containing no stars.

    "That must be it," Omegas concluded.  Quooth traced out the letter
'S' with his head in agreement.  Omegas took the control bar of the
spaceship and twisted it so they faced the circle, which ominously grew
bigger.  The former immortal actually loved spacecraft like these; they
behaved just like ones in arcade games in that you moved the joystick,
er, control stick in the direction you wanted to go and the spacecraft
went.  There was even a big red button labelled "FIRE" in an
easy-to-jab location.

    The circle grew bigger... bigger... bigger... and suddenly it
swallowed them.  The stars disappeared as t(p)hey entered the Bend
subuniverse.  And looking ahead, t(p)hey could see why it was called
this:  there were only ten stars visible, spaced along in a graceful
arc.  All were yellow dwarves, each orbited by a few planets.  The
spacecraft zoomed past something else.  "What was that?" Omegas asked.

    "A sign," Quooth replied.

    Omegas stopped the ship.  "What did it say?"

    "Alas, I could not read it, rude one, for you were propelling the
ship forward at too great a speed," Quooth informed him.

    "Well, I want to know what it said," Omegas informed phim back, "so
we'll just reverse the ship and check."  He pushed the "REVERSE" button
and the retrorockets fired.  But there was no motion.  No strain on the
engines, either, just no movement.  "It's true," Omegas whispered.
Just to make sure, he piloted the ship up, down, to the left, to the
right, and even a little forward, but it would not go back.  One truly
had to continue in the direction of travel that one started in while
inside the Bend.  Omegas found this to be rather disturbing.  What if
someone came up from behind them?  But of course, at this point, that
hypothetical someone would have to come from the real universe, and
since no one else ventured into the Bend, it wasn't currently a
problem.  But what about once they passed the first star of the Bend?

    "I think our quest continues on the planet around the first star,"
Quooth said.  Omegas made appropriate adjustments in the X-Y plane so
that they wouldn't miss the planet as they flew forth, and fired the
engines.

-----------------------------

    T(p)hey piloted the ship to land in what seemed to be the only park
in a huge city.  As t(p)hey disembarked, a native in a blue
official-looking uniform walked up to them.  Omegas knew that physique
and facial structure, as well as the uniform - a policeman.

    So did Quooth.  "Greetings, man of authority," phe said with
formality, "may we request permission to continue our quest on your
planet?"

    The policeman said, "That's not for me to decide.  I am here to
welcome you to our planet."

    "What's it called?" Omegas asked.

    "I have also been empowered to explain that to you.  We used to be
the First planet of the Bend, but then we realized that just as many
people came to our planet from the other direction, making us the Last
planet, and the Last planet the First planet; so there was a problem.
Even though we ARE the First planet, the Last planet wanted us to stop
thinking of ourselves as the First planet.  There was some consterntion
about this, as we obviously couldn't greet visitors by saying, 'Welcome
to the First, or perhaps Last, planet of the Bend,' because that's
exactly what they decided to say on the other planet.

    "Anyway, we decided to come up with a new adjective, and we became
the Flarst planet of the Bend, even though we REALLY are the first
planet.  But this was to no avail, becuase that other planet at the
other end decided on the same thing.  Thus, to make a long story short,
through an interplanetary conference, which wasn't easy, we are the
planet Yin, and the other planet at the other end of the Bend is Yang."
The policeman finally stopped to take a breath.

    "Oh, I see," Omegas said, really wishing he hadn't asked.  He
reflected that was probably the point of the speech.

    "Which direction are you travelling, by the way?" asked the
policeman.  "You are familiar with the differences of our universe -
that space travel is only possible in the direction that you started."

    "Yeah, we noticed when we missed your sign," Omegas said.

    "It was a sign warning you about aforementioned property of our
space," the officer explained.

    "Great.  So, are you just here to explain things?"

    The officer removed an energy gun from his belt, and pointed it
squarely at both of t(p)hem.  "No, visitors to this planet are
forbidden.  You're under arrest."

    "WHAT?" Omegas spat.  "Now how are we supposed to know that?"

    "It said clearly on the sign after the explanation that all
visitors from your universe were unwelcome and landing on any planet
would be cause for arrest," the man in blue said smugly.

    "But we missed the sign," Omegas said.

    "Then you were probably travelling faster than the speed limit,"
the policeman said, "you're under arrest for that too."

    "What's the speed limit in this universe?"

    The policeman smiled, urging t(p)hem away from their ship, and
said, "It's posted on the sign."  Omegas was thoroughly exasperated,
and threw his hands in the air.

    "That's good, keep them there," suggested the policeman.

    Quooth, who had been sniffing the air through phis harmonica, put
all six of phis limbs into the air too.  The harmonica he kept in phis
mouth.  "Follow me," the policeman said cheerfully.

-----------------------------

***** Entry appended 13:09 on Tue, 03/01/88 by 89SGM at WILLIAMS    # 111 *****
=========================================================================
Subject:     In which we come to the flarst planet of the Bend - part 2
From:        Scott McGuire (89SGM at WILLIAMS)

    It may be puzzling to find that the inhabitants of the Bend, who
clearly desire no attachment with the outside universe, also call their
subuniverse "the Bend."  They actually do no such thing.  The readers
of this story are at an advantage in that all languages are translated
to English; Quooth and Omegas would be in trouble if each of them was
not gifted with a special ability.  Omegas's was that he was at one
time an immortal, and as such he instantly understood any language
spoken to him.  Quooth's translations, which phe hears in phis native
language of Wzaxtilli, are provided by phis harmonica, since it was,
after all, the most perfect object in the universe.

    For those who are interested, the inhabitants of the Bend think of
"the Bend" as "the universe," and "the universe" as "that stinking big
disorderly place out there inhabited by a lot of people we don't like."
They have a word for this, but it's not printable using ASCII
characters.

-----------------------------

    Omegas also knew the fat sweaty man behind the desk.  It was the
pompous bureaucrat, who would bore them to tears before jailing, or
executing, or stoning t(p)hem with rotten pumpkins, or whatever they
did to unwelcome visitors on this planet.  T(p)hey'd probably also have
to fill out some forms in order to do this.

    "By the way, strangers, which way were you travelling?" asked the
policeman who they'd first met.  He'd been joined by two others who
were wearing helmets with shaded visors that hid their eyes.  They were
all equipped with energy guns.

    "You're the first planet we landed on," Omegas answered.  "But what
does it matter?"

    "We keep a record," the fat sweaty man behind the desk said in a
scratchy voice, "so that some day if more people come this way, we can
show the other planet that we're First.  Now, what unpardonnable crimes
have you committed?"

    Quooth broke his silence.  "Fat man with authority, we have
committed no crimes.  We are pilgrims on a quest; we felt that your
planet was worthy of investigation, and hence came here.  Our actions
cannot be misconstrued, and due to the importance of our mission, your
mundane law does not apply to us."

    The bureaucrat was bored by this speech.  "Their crimes?"

    "Ignoring the sign and speeding," the policeman said.

    "The sentence is... let's see, today we'll have slow drowning."  He
pounded the desk with both fists, and raised them in a cross above his
head.  "Make it so."  The guards repeated the motion and moved in on
the prisoners.

    "It is the inalienable moral right of beings on pilgrimage to be
allowed to continue unimpeded, and the moral obligation of others to
aid them in any way on their quest!" Quooth insisted.  Phe then
summarized the sentiment behind phis queer perspective:  "One should be
honored to aid a fellow being on phis path to eternal happiness!"  This
was, of course, the more general doctrine that people should be nice to
each other, which sadly is not subscribed to by most of the universe.
The guards closed in further.

    This doctine didn't hold water with Omegas either, so he said,
"Bug, prepare to use that perfect thing in an offensive manner!"  He
grabbed the heads of two guards, who immediately drew there energy
guns.  "Don't use those," he warned, "or I turn your brains to tofu!"
The guards pulled their triggers, so Omegas concentrated real hard and
they slumped to the floor.

    "I warned you," the former immortal said, "but gosh, doing that
gives me a headache myself."

    Meanwhile, the original policeman fired his gun at Quooth, and it
smashed into the Wzaxtil with a vibrant green beam.  The harmonica
absorbed the energy, and sprayed it back at the policeman through its
many holes, at the same time playing "Pop Goes the Weasel."  The
bureaucrat, mush disturbed, was reaching for the alarm button on top of
his desk.  Omegas tore the desk away from him, and grabbed hold of both
sides of his head.

    "Okay, you're tofu," he threatened.  But he decided not to bother,
because...  "Your brains are *already* tofu!"  Grabbing Quooth, he ran
like hell from the room.

    Guards streamed after them, but none of the deadly green beams hit
the fleeing immortal and Wzaxtil while t(p)hey boarded their spaceship.
Taking off, Omegas said, "Bug, I think we'd better try a different
planet."

    "I think you are right, sometimes rude but sometimes helpful one,"
Quooth agreed.  And they blasted off, toward the second star of the
Bend.


Do any beings in the universe have a moral sense as highly developed as
    Quooth?
Will everyone in the Bend be as unfriendly?
Will some other bureaucrat have savory tofu pie for lunch?

Find out in a future episode of SFSTORY CSNOTICE!

***** Entry appended 13:10 on Tue, 03/01/88 by 89SGM at WILLIAMS    # 112 *****
=========================================================================
Subject:     In orbit around Stix
From:        The Cowboy (THC8650 at TNTECH)

Time Agent 357 stared intently into the 5 parsec wide hole in space.  Until
recently he had been staring at the ship that was entering it, but it had
vanished upon entry.  He began to dismiss it as irrelevant, when he noticed
that his ship was moving towards it.  With a muffled curse he headed for the
engine room.

There, he found Mark Hyperthrust and Zark Flyby, whom he was beginning to
suspect shared a single brain between them, attempting to bend the
hypertechnical orange thingy back into shape.  "What have you done?" roared
357, reaching out with both hands to grasp each of his travelling companions
by their throats.

"Choke...gasp...wheeze..." replied Zark.

"Gasp...coff...choke..." replied Mark.

357 threw them against the far wall and attempted to repair the damage.  The
ship was completely repaired except for the hypertechnical orange thingy
which had just been broken.  Unbeknowst to his companions, but knownst to
357, the HOT (Hypertechnical Orange Thingy) was vital to his ship's
navigational control circuitry.  Without it, his ship could fly off in any
direction at any time, and, thanks to another contrived plot device, it had
chosen to fly off in the direction of the space warp at this very moment.
357 had just replaced the HOT and was returning to the bridge when the ship
entered the spacewarp.

Lunging at the controls, he attempted to reverse his course, which appeared
to be impossible.  He did the next best thing, which was come to a complete
stop.  He looked forward and read the sign floating in space:

"Warning!  Visitors not welcome.  Enter at your own risk."

Below, in tiny print:  "Speed limit [blurred] per hour"

357 called up the navigaitonal computer and scanned the microcosm he had
invaded.  Ten yellow-orange stars, each with at least one habitable planet,
were lined up in a graceful arc.  Deciding nothing else could be done, he
ordered the ship into orbit around the first planet.

"Wow," said Mark Hyperthrust over 357's shoulder.  "Wow," he said again.  "I
can get a 25-point bonus in 'expanding human knowledge' by exploring a whole
new universe."

Zark Flyby, over 357's other shoulder, said "Don't look too impressive to me."

357, tired of having people reading over his shoulder, slithered out of the
command chair and made his way to the galley.  There, he shut off the
microwave oven that Ralph had left on and removed the Spam sandwich that now
had assumed the shape and texture of a piece of charcoal.  He ordered the
computer to fix his dinner and put his cassette of "Radar does Altair VII"
on to play.

Meanwhile, traveling through space and time without the use of a spaceship,
Doctor Bing Von Spleen, Bubba, and G.X.P. Varneyloop LXVII were trying
desparately to halt their headlong plunge through the universe.  They were
successful, and materialized on a planet that looked awfully familiar to the
Doctor.  Looking around, he saw a single male weaseloid surrounded by
hundreds of females.

"Hi," said Ralph.  "Welcome to weasel heaven."

In Heaven, St. Peter smiled as he closed The Book.

[I hearby resolve to stop putting those stupid questions at the end of my
entries.]

***** Entry appended 16:40 on Tue, 03/01/88 by THC8650 at TNTECH    # 113 *****
=========================================================================
Subject:     Wherin Matt makes a BIG mistake
From:        Eric, Lord Sabre -}-------------- (enll6ac at bostonu)

     On the set of the popular Cosby spin-off A Different World, young
Lisa Bonet sat, drinking a coke and generally making life difficult
for everyone else on the set with her.
     Of course, as this was hardly any different from any other day on
the set, very little comment was made.  Besides, if there was ever any
stink, Lisa would just threaten tocall "uncle Cos...."
     "I want a beer."  She finally muttered.
     "A beer?" asked her tech director.  "Gee, would Cos approve?"
     "Shut up you stupid looking arthropod!  I hate you all, none of you
ever do what I want!!!!!!!!!"
     Just then, all of the lights began to flicker and a strange wheezing
noise was heard.  Slowly, ever so slowly, a Brador Malt Liquor keg (the
most heavanly beer-type substance known) appeared.  Lisa just stared as it
opened up and a moderatly cute guy who she automatically assumed was her
brother (despite his being white) wearing a bomber jacket and an old guy
who looked like a beardedcross between Gene Roddenbarry and Gahndi stepped
out.
     "Whoa," she murmered.  "I take it back, that's service."
     "Hello, Miss Bonet," Matt began, stammering and blushing as he did
in the presence of any female above the age of tweleve, eleven if they
developed early.
     "Hello, miss," said Muck-Luck as he took her arm rather roughly,
"If you'd kindly step inside..." and he lead her in, while Matt followed
mutely.
     The keg sealed and vanished.
     "Gee," one of the techys said.  "Should we do something?"
     "Well, she was a real pain....we should probably tell Cos though."
     "He wouldn't believe us."
     "Yeah, lets just tell him she went off ina snit."
     "Oh, yes, lets."
     In the TARDIS, Muck-Luck had just finished strapping Lisa to a table,
after gagging her so she couldn't complain.  He paused to chuckle evilly,
then wondered why.
     "Er, just, um, what are you, er, going todo to her?"  asked Matthew.
     "Connect these electrodes and transduce her into the TARDIS control
system--then all we'll have to get is Radar Vogal's bra--not a difficult
task--and we'll be able to make complete TARDIS repairs."
     "Transduce her into--"  Matt's eyes grew wide.  "That will kill her!"
     "Hmmm?  Yes, it will.  Doing TV land people a favor."
     "No, you can't!"
     "CAN'T????????!!!!!!!!!"  Muck-Luck said, logging onto his destruction
account and rising high above Matt while his voice boomed in presicly
the way Matt's didn't.  "I THINK YOU FORGET WHO YOU SPEAK TO, LITTLE MAN!!!!!"
     With that, the lights came back up and Muck-Luck, normal sized again,
proceeded to connect the electrodes in question together and attach them to
Miss Bonet--now completly in a state of panic rarly seen in a Cosby kid.
     Muck-Luck walked over to the large, evil, B-Movie looking switch and
prepared to throw it.
     Some people are heros.  Most of the  people who are heros learn to be
heros--at Intersteller U or West Point, athough both also release degrees
in being a**h*les--but there are one or two who are born that way and
cannot get rid of it, no matter what attempts or lobotomys they use.  Matt
DeForrest was one of those people, and he through personal saftey to the
four winds and leapt at Muck-Luck.
     The switch closed.  Muck-Luck and Matt were hurled into the current
and compleltly electrocuted.  However, being electocuted by a TARDIS meant
only that a basic change in the nature of the electrocutee would take place.
This now happened.
     Muck-Luck got up.  He checked the instruments.  Lisa was completly
digitized and quite irretrievably dead--I mean it, this girl was dead and
no person posting could possibly change that cause she was just plain dead
and that's final....
     Sorry, I just don't like A Different World or Lisa Bonet.
     Anyway, Matt was gone.  Muck-Luck looked around himself and realised that
DeForrest just plain vanished.  Sighing, he logged into his omniescience
and attempted to locate Matt.
     Except he couldn't access his Omnisence account (superbrain at oracle2).
It was gone.
     No...the electrocution had transferred it to Matt!  That was Muck-Luck's
livelyhood, by gum!
     He quickly logged onto his destructive account.  It still worked.  Well
then, he'd just have to get Radar's bra and finish repairing the TARDIS and
THEN find DeForrest...and wipe that snotty little hero-type geek right off
the face of the Earth using his own bomber jacket!!!!!!!!!!!!


WILL MUCK-LUCK WIPE MATT OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH?
IS MATT REALLY OMNISCENT?
IS ANY OTHER POSTER DUMB ENOUGH TO RESSURRECT LISA BONET?
I"M WARNING YOU JOKERS!  DON"T DO IT!
aw, just read the dumb story

***** Entry appended 19:41 on Tue, 03/01/88 by enll6ac at bostonu   # 114 *****