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Sfstory Log 020

Subject:     On their {thier?} way back
From:        The Cowboy (THC8650 at TNTECH)

Subtitle:  The Story of the Missing Crow
*That's crew, you ninny!*
Subtitle:  The Crew of the Missing Crow
*Never mind!  Get on with the story!*

On a strange planet where trees walked around sniffing at dogs that were
rooted to the ground, Time Agent 357 and Doctor Bing Von Spleen were passing
the time playing a deeply intellectual game known as "Buzz Fizz" aided by
several cases of Arcturan Mega-gin which had materialized with them.

"1," began 357.

"2," answered Doctor Spleen.






"Fizz.  Oops.  Glub.  Glub."

Needless to say, they were stuck on Latigid again because the author needed
to get them out of the way for a while.  This is so he could quickly (in
only four or five postings) tell another story.

Time Ensign Varney sputtered into existance.  He checked his watch.  His
watch informed him that it was 2:26 am.  The calender option infromed him
that he had been displaced in time to a period of approximately 300 years
before the rest of SFSTORY.  This did not bode well with Varney.

"AAAUUUGGGGHHHH!!!!" he whispered as he ran down the halls of the building
he had materialized in, which, incidentally, was known as Wheeler Hall,
which could have been a prison if not for the cruel and unbearable
conditions in which its tenants were forced to live.  Hence, it was a
dormitory for the local college.  (Varney was whispering his scream because
it was after 10:00 and quiet hours were strictly enforced.)  He stumbled
into the community bathroom, stood in line for twenty minutes, and upchucked
his lunch into the nearest urinal.  Luckily, it was not being used by anyone
else at the time.

As he staggered back into the dimly lit hallway, perspiring heavily due to
the fact that air conditioning system had not yet been activated even though
it was the hotest May on record, he met an impressive-looking individual.

He bore a striking resemblance to Time Agent 357, except he looked about 300
years younger.  "Where do you think you're going?"

"357!  What are you doing here?" Varney asked, more confused than usual.

"How did you know my name was Time Captian 357?"

"Uh, lucky guess.  I'm Time Ensign G.X.P. Varneyloop LXVII.  But you can
call me Varney, as I'm your new partner."

In case you haven't caught on, I'm trying to resolve some inconsistancies in
my postings.  Some of you may recall several postings back that G.X.P. was
357's partner back before he retired.  My friend and roommate, Nathan E.
Songer, noted that though I had placed G.X.P. with 357, I had done so in the
wrong time period.  Therefor, using an arbitrary plot contrivance, I have
placed Varney (temporarily) in the past to be 357's partner so everything
will work out correctly so we won't destroy the fabric of Space and Time and
cause the universe to be destroyed which would be a slight inconvenience to
most of us.  If you still don't understand email me directly and I'll answer
your individual questions as soon as I figure it out.

Once outside, they entered 357's ship, the HMS Crow.  (Remember, he doesn't
buy the Golden Lance until *after* he retires.)  The crew of the Crow set
sail for new adventures.

"What's our assignment, 357?" asked Varney.

"We're supposed to check out reports of objects alledgedly appearing from
300 years in the future.  Silly, huh?"

"Definitely," said Varney, whistling softly and examining his fingernails.
The HMS Crow blasted off in a cloud of radioactive smoke, which served to
make Wheeler Hall only slightly less inhabitable.

Just as the Crow achieved orbit about the planet they had been on, the ship
collided with a large mass.  About four tons.  Sensors identified it as
Sickeningly Putrid Artificial Meat.  That's right.  It was the HMS Golden
Lance's Spam that we lost three entries ago.

"What is this stuff?" asked 357.

"Spam," answered Varney, wondering how he was going to explain this one.
Gee, the universe wasn't scheduled to develop Spam for another 250 years,
and it would be another 50 before Spamology became a refined science.  The
world had no use for that much Spam.  Except as food.  Uck!  Forget I said
that.  Nobody could be that hungry.

"Let's throw this Spam into the hold and get about our mission," said 357,
not realizing that the Spam *was* the subject of his mission.  357 ambled
back to the hold to secure the Spam.  Varney took this opportunity to
familiarize himself with the controls of the crude time vessel.

Will Varney be able to return to his own time?
Will he remeber to bring the Spam with him?
Is this the missing crow we were talking about last entry?
How will he get the Spam to alterverse 1066, since he is currently in
alterverse 1's past?

gee, that's a hard one....

***** Entry appended 04:51 on Wed, 05/18/88 by THC8650 at TNTECH    # 230 *****
Subject:     Wherin we begin to reactivate the dead plotlines
From:        Eric, Lord Sabre (BURNS at MAINE)

     Steve and Lameduck set the Challenger II down lightly on the surface
of Tampon IV, home of the NKDBFTIY and current location of young Paladin
Matt DeForrest (President of Danielson Hall (now destroyed), Commander
of Camolot Command (now abandoned), Captain of the Millenium Badger
(now belligerent), and occasionally omniscient) and Linda Madison,
Ex-NASA computer operater, slightly illiterate, a bit dizzy, but a
powerful palidin and all around cheerleader.
     Steve stepped out, marvelling at how the FTT drive enabled the
Challenger II to be a reentry vehicle with such ease.  "Linda!" he called
out.  "Are you around here?"
     "Captain Vogel?  Is that you?"
     "Well, it ain't the Queen!"
     Linda and Matt, arm in arm, stepped up to the now quiescient (go
ahead, make fun of my spelling, you'll get yours in the end!)  (Actually,
that might actually be spelled right, I can't tell) Steller Crusier.
"Nice ship," said Matt, who was mentally comparing it to his own HMS
Millenium Badger and snickering.
     "Thanks," said Steve, "it's been remodeled.  She can blast
civilizations into dust now."
     "A-ha.  I see. (Ahem)."
     Lameduck also stepped out, and a few dozen of the cute little
NKDBFTIV started cogregating around the ship as well.
     "So, what seems to be the problem?" asked Matt, after introductions
were made.
     "Hey, that's the Challenger II!  The ship I was on before the spam
hit us and I was teleported to this sleezy bar...." Linda proceded to
summerize the entire Sfstory, but that's neither here nor there.
     "Well," said Steve, "Radar and the Inter got themselves blasted
all over space/time.  The Faster-Than-Time drive on board the C-II can
reintragate them, but only if we have the precise coodanates of each and
every particle of their being."
     "Right, well, how does that involve us?"
     "simple, DeForrest, I want you to use your omniscience account to
track all of those errent particles."
     "What?  Are you crazy!  Do you know how long that'll take?"
     "No, do you?"
     "It'll not.  BUT I can find out!
Question: How long will it take to compile a list of every particle
of the beings known as Radar Vogel and the Intern?"
     *****Hey, wow, like, that'll take seventeen hours, fifty four minutes,
thirty eight seconds, fourteen milliseconds....*****
     "Uh, right, thanks.  Query: The precise space/time locations of every
particle of the beings known as Radar Vogel and the Intern."
     *****Working, old buddy, old pal!*****
     Steve smiled, "Way to go--how long?"
     Matt absently said "About eighteen hours.  Hey, Superbrain, why are
you acting so nice all of a sudden?"
     *****Because I, like, really think that you are the greatest thing
ever in the whole world!*****
     "All right, the real reason."
     *****Hey, you don't believe me?*****
     "Question:The real reason."
     *****Annhialator at Destructionvax5's gunning for me, and I need
your help*****
     "What can I do?"
     *****Well, there is one way to stop him*****
     *****Destroy the Destructionvax5 computer.*****
     *****C'mon, you got over seventeen hours with nothing to do--it'll
hamstring Muck-Luck--give it a shot!*****
     "--and then Sagemo dropped Steve's brain off of the cloudbank and...
Matt?" Linda said, intterupting her synopsis, "What's wrong, Matt?"
     "It's Superbrain, he wants us to go and destroy the Destructionvax!"
     The NKDBFTIV looked up, anntenne twitching.  "Yes," said Captain
YYY, "We must destroy it.  Without it, Muck-Luck will no longer be able
to bully us into doing his dirty work!"
     Lameduck chucled, "Yup, sonny, without the D-vax, whole galexy's
lots safer."
     "It's heroic," added Steve.
     "It's suicide!" said Matt, with a bit of an annoying twinge to his
     "Oh Matt, how romantic," said Linda, causing Matt to blush a neon
blush and, of course, settling their course of action.  When bravery fails,
try sex, it works.


(Well, I've just gotten home to my other account, you have to give
me a little leeway here.)
The answers and all that.

***** Entry appended 16:16 on Wed, 05/18/88 by BURNS at MAINE       # 231 *****
Subject:     Wherin the quest gets underway
From:        Eric, Lord Sabre (BURNS at MAINE)

     Matt flipped out his Star Trek style communicator and flipped
open the communications grid.  "DeForrest to Millenium Badger, beam
us up."
      $Beam you up?$
      "Come on, we've been through this before...."
     $Oh yes, you mean Transix.$
     $Well, I wish you'd just say 'Transix us.'$
     "Well, from now on, any time I tell you to beam us up, it means
Transix us, understand?"
     $Seems like a bloody waste of time, telling me to interpret some
silly set of commands as a perfectly useful command when you could
simply tell me the initial command in the first place and save me the
trouble of interpreting your commands.$
     "Look, just Transix us."
     $You mean beam you up?$
     $Could've just said so....$
     A multicolored energon field flowed over Matt and Linda, causing
them to disappear and reappear inside a large cubicle on board the
HMS Millenium Badger.
     In front of them was an awfully well color-coordanated contol panel
with the marking "Transix Control" crossed out in yellow crayon, with
"Beam them up Control" penned in underneath it.
     Matt sighed and stepped down off the platform.  He and Linda went
forward to a room with "Control Cabin" printed on the door.  It was
crossed out in red crayon and "Bride" was written underneath it.
     Matt sighed.  "Computer, you misspelled bridge."
     $Oh oh oh!  So persnickety, aren't we?  "Bride" not good enough,
must make it Bridge!  What the Hell is wrong with Control Cabin?!$
     "It has no style."
     "Excuse me," said Linda, "but I've had no lines and next to
no mention in the entire entry so far."
     The author cleared his throat and apologised.
     "It's all right, but don't make me go to Affermitive Action!"
     The door opened, and the two went into the 'Bride.'
     Actually, the Control Cabin/Bride/Bridge had the appearence of
a cockpit more than anything else, with a pilot's and co-pilots chair
and adjacent Navigator's and Weapons controls.
     "HMS Millenium Badger to TimeShuttle Challenger II, come in."
     Steve's face appeared on the viewscreen.  "Challenger II here.  All
right, Matt, what've you got for us?"
     "Well, I'm just about to power up the Badger and launch.  As soon as
we achive standerd orbit, we'll propel ourselves into our repective
stardrives and head straight for the Destructionvax5 artificial sattilite."
     Linda tapped Matt on the shoulder.  "Matt, where is the
     Matt shrugged.  "I dunno, Cornell?"
     Linda sighed.  "I don't think so."
     "Right.  Question: Where is the Destructionvax5 sattilite?"
     *****Well, itslsdkjrhgolikwsduhwerfyjgl--ow ow ow ow ow!*****
     "Superbrain!  Are you all right?"
     *****Yeah...I...I think so....The damn place has an anti-omniscience
disruption field!  I can't lock onto it without total link quiesience!*****
     *****It won't work, white boy.*****
     "Oh.  Um, Linda, Steve, we have a problem."
     He told them.
     "Oh bloody fantasic!  What're we going to do now?"
     "Heh," said Lameduck to Steve, "Now you calm down, sonny.  We'll
just take it to a higher authority...Matt, I'ma gonna send ye some
travelplans, ye just put them into your navicomp and, heh, enjoy the
     "Great," said Matt.
     "What?" said Steve.
     "Why?" said Linda.
     "Mrrrrroooowwwwwwwwww," said Lucky, the Six-Foot-At-The-Shoulder-
Ship's Cat for the TimeShuttle Challenger II.  He then went on to chew
all the shoes on board the ship and drink fifteen quarts of warm milk.
      The two ships took off and aligned.  Then the Millenium Badger
jumped to Hyperspace and the Challenger II's FTT drive kicked in,
accelerating them faster, and sometimes slower, than time.`
     Back on Tampon IV, the NKDBFTIV curried around, the way that they
often do, and then settled back down to podsucking and needless fornication,
before planning their next raid to preserve their reputations.
     Meanwhile, on an completly different planet without any sort of
coherent rules for gravity or physics, a woman in a ripped Time Police
uniform awoke and rubbed her head.  "Look at the pretty colors," she said
before realising that yes indeed, she was in a lot of trouble.  She
thumbed her wrist temporal recall, but was unsurpirised when absolutly
nothing happened.  She then activated her emergancy temporal distress
signal and began to construct a shelter.  However, constructing a shelter
on a world where gravity fluxed between 0.0000001 G and 5 Gs with no
rhyme, reason, or sense of meter, and where solids went from being nice
and straight to the consistancy and color of Jello for no apparent reason
beyond whim isn't exactly the easiest thing in the world.  After finally
completling the shelter (and watching it melt and spring back up three or
four time while changing colors) she set off on a quest to find something
or someone to eat, and someone or something to talk to.


These questions and others roughly similar to them will be found and
interuppted in the next exciting episode of SFSTORY CSNOTICE, where
we care.

***** Entry appended 12:58 on Thu, 05/19/88 by BURNS at MAINE       # 232 *****
Subject:     300 years in the past
From:        The Cowboy (THC8650 at TNTECH)

Time Ensign Varney, now teamed with Time Captain 357 in SFSTORY's past,
travelled through Space and Time in the HMS Crow, 357's first time vessel.
They were on the lookout for objects being transported from 300 years into
the future (our present).  357 swore occasionally as he thought they were
not having very good luck.  Actually, they were having exceptional luck, as
the hold was full of four tons of Spam from the future, and 357's new
partner was also from the future.

357 piloted his ship to a nearby planetoid, where the scanners had detected
large amounts of energy residue and cheez whiz.  Similar to the Golden Lance
energy beam, thought Varney.  They exited the Crow to look around.  The
re-entered the Crow wheezing and gasping, and very carefully slipped into
their spacesuits.  357 muttered something about taking a wrench to the
scanners as they stepped outside.

Sure enough, the planetoid was alive with energy residue and slick with
cheez whiz.  Varney decided that this planetoid must have been near a battle
involving the HMS Golden Lance, and was later teleported back in time 300
years.  As he watched the sky, he noticed that several other objects
(planetoids, ships, and the occasional road sign) were appearing.

[300 years into the future, in alterverse 1066, the HMS Golden Lance, now
inhabited solely by the VAL 9000 computer, was attempting to fight off a
hoard of ugly, slimey, reptillian, ugly, disgusting aliens.  By a stroke of
luck Val had discovered a small crate of Spam in her aft hold and was using
it to power the Golden Lance energy beam.  She was hoping to finish off the
alien horde and warp out before reinforcements could arrive, but things did
not look good.]

"Looks like the jetsam and flotsam of a battle," said 357, a remarkable
conclusion seeing as he hadn't read the last two paragraphs.  "Probably from
300 years into the future like the rest of the stuff."

"Maybe we should use the Crow to travel forward in time 300 years and check
things out," suggested Varney, as he was sure this was his only way home.

"Nah, let's just hang around here a bit."  He reached into his backpack and
removed two bottles of Classic Coke.  "Got a bottle opener?"

When Varney answered with a negative, 357 shrugged and began attempting to
open the bottle with his teeth.  It takes a real man to open a bottle with
his teeth.  A real stupid man.  Very stupid considering the bottle had a
screw off cap.  But then, 357 was only 121 years old back then and hadn't
been away from home long enough to know these things.

357 dropped the bottle and started walking back to the Crow.  He soon began
to run, as he had removed his spacesuit helmet and had lost it while
openning the bottle.  As Varney placed him in the the sickbay, a plan began

Meanwhile, back in the timestream that contained the rest of SFSTORY, in
alterverse 1066, the HMS Golden Lance had just been rescued.  The ship's
computer, the VAL 9000, was carrying on a conversation with her saviors.

=This is Val aboard the HMS Golden Lance.  Please respond.=

"This is Vance Hardcore aboard the MHMSSS White Line Fever."

=MHMSSS?  What does that stand for?=

"Merle Haggard Memorial Shipping Service Ship."

=Uh, yeah.  Anyway, thank you for blasting those reptiles for me.  I was
running low on Spam.=

"Your ship runs on Spam?!?  How silly can you get?"

=Hey, buddy, it wasn't my idea.  I just work here.=  And with that she
activated her ABPSAR and zipped out into the multiverse, looking for
alterverse 1 or anyplace else she could find Spam.

Back 300 years in the past, Time Ensign Varney, aboard the HMS Crow, set the
space/time co-ordinates and prayed he would get home.  However, God was busy
and St. Peter was at Club Nympho and Gabriel wasn't taking requests, so the
prayer was for naught.  It did, however, make a nice place to end this entry.

Will Varney ever return to the future -er, SFSTORY's present?
Will Val make it back to alterverse 1 with so little Spam?
Will Time Captain 357 recover from his ordeal with the Coke bottle?
Will Time Agent 357 and Doctor Bing Von Spleen be rescued from Latigid?

only time will tell

***** Entry appended 18:48 on Thu, 05/19/88 by THC8650 at TNTECH    # 233 *****
Subject:     Wherin the gang's in trouble
From:        Eric, Lord Sabre (BURNS at MAINE)

     Lameduck was smiling...he'd show all those whippersnapping
kids how a raid was done and who you went to see to find things out!
Then Lameduck saw a particularly interesting Spamstain on the wall, a
spamstain that was totally absorbing, causing the Time Lord to be
engrossed in its intricate patterns until he felt really lightheaded
and the cabin began to spin and he passed out.
     "Lameduck?" said Steve.
     "Lameduck," he repeated.
     "Lameduck?" he said again without any coherent reason, as he had
recieved no direct response the first two times he had asked.
     "Damn," he said, and punched up the communications console.  After
beating it for a while, he realised it should be the communications
code he was punchin up and his fists were beginning to hurt.  It was
and understandable mistake, as Natchwald had been the communications
operator on board the Challenger II's original mission.  He therefore
pummeled the hapless code until it gave up and contacted the HMS
Millenium Badger.
     The nice little color TV snapped on, with Matt's face on it.
     "Millenium Badger, Commander DeForrest speaking."
     "Matt?  That's a bit formal for communications between us, isn't
it?  I mean, I know you aren't Linda because of obvious physical
differences, I don't need to know your name!"
     Matt sighed.  "Look, you have your quirks, please give me mine.
Now then--Millenium Badger, Commander DeForrest speaking."
     "All right...acknowledged, Millenium Badger, this is Captain
Vogel of the T.S. Challenger II."
     "Yes, Captain Vogel, what can we do for you?"
     "Do you know where we're going?"
     "What?, but Lameduck does--he programmed it."
     "Yes, but Lameduck passed out.  What does Superbrain say?"
     "He hasn't recovered from the distortion effect--he'll be out for
a while."
     "Well, ask your navicomputer."
     On board the Millenium Badger, Linda got up from her Co-Pilot's
chair and slipped into the chair in front of the navigation console.
"Galahad?"  she asked.
     "Please analyze programmed coordanetes (Dr. Young, Debbie, I quite
obviously could use some help with this word--please note the new account
and we thank you for your support) and predict our destination."
     &Working...uh oh.&
     "What?" she asked, wishing that just once one of their plans or
adventures would work the way they had expected it to.
     &These coordanetes take us out of our dimension entirely, and are
depositing us outside the altiverses completely!&
     "What?  Where????"
     &How should I know?  I've never been there before!&
     "Oh great!  Matt!"
     "I heard.  Steve?"
     "I heard.  Lucky?"
     "Well, now what do we do?"


The answers to the questions are somewhere in SFSTORY CSNOTICE!

***** Entry appended 15:58 on Fri, 05/20/88 by BURNS at MAINE       # 234 *****
Subject:     Wherein this idiot story goes on {and on, and on,...}
From:        Nathan Irwin (UD140680 at NDSUVM1)

     Zark Flyby, Louie Stevens, and Bubba Wojohowitz (aka Bubba the
Wanton and Invincible Death Merchant from Hell) were on their way from
that MAJOR metropolis of Jamestown, North Dakota (oh, BOY!) to that other
MAJOR metropolis of MINOT, North Dakota (oh, RAPTURE!), when suddenly,
they spotted a candy-apple-red, imported, EXTREMELY expensive Bertolucci
500 ZXrqZork, just sitting on the side of the road, immobile.  When the
aforementioned trio was a few hundred hards away, a tall, lean, handsome
man got out of the car, walked a few yards away, unzipped his pants, and
began to contribute nutrients to the soil.

     "Look at THAT!" whispered Louie, "A spanking-new Bertolucci 500.
If we had one of THOSE, we'd get to Minot in NO time."

     "Yeah." said Zark. (Take it easy on the guy - That's about all he's
CAPABLE of saying without passing out!)

     "Thwump!" said Zark's face as it had a short reunuion with the
ground.  (Okay! Maybe I was wrong.....)

     "Well, why don't we ask that guy for a lift?" suggested Bubba.

     "We could do that."  agreed Louie

     Zark feebly lifted his head to say "NUKE 'em."

     "Splat!" said Zark's head as it once more encountered dirt.

     "Yeah!" said Louie and Bubba in unison, their eyes gleaming in evil

     So, after drawing up a plan and explaining it to the now-conscious
Zark, Louie and Bubba slowly crept up to the abandoned car.  After making
sure that there was nobody else in the car, and that the keys were in the
ignition, Bubba motioned to Zark, who then advanced upon the source of
grunts and sighs.  Right about then, the man finished his duty, and
looked up at the sky in a moment of total, serene, universal peace.

     Zark obliterated him with a single shot from his Personal Nuker.
Then, he followed Bubba and Louie, and piled into the deceased's car.
After drinking some more of Louie's beer, the gang sped off towards
Minot, North Dakota (oh, RAPTURE!) at WELL above the legal speed limit.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

     Meanwhile, in his hidden laboratory deep beneath Minot, North Dakota
(oh, RAPTURE!), the evil, insidious, and smelly Dr. Ivan Biggfeet was
watching the progress of our heroes via his eye-in-the-sky-super-nifty-
satellite.  He was NOT pleased.

     "Oh, SPAM!" he cursed, "Those obnoxious interlopers have acquired a
CAR now.  Now, they'll be able to find my headquarters in NO time.
Murgletwit, get IN here!"

     Soon, Murgletwit entered the lab.  Despite his alien physiology,
he bore a striking resemblance to Howard Cosell (a cosmic anomaly that
has yet to be explained). "Whaddya want, boss?" he asked.

     "The humans will be arriving soon.  Prepare a particularly
unpleasant welcome for them, would you?"

     "Yes, boss," he said, exiting.  "What a jerk!" he added after
closing the door.

     "What an ugly cretin." said Biggfeet after Murgletwit closed the

     Murgletwit proceeded to go down into the sub-sub-sub-sub-really-low-
way-down-there-basement (Actually, the name of the floor is rather
academic - there are only two floors in Biggfeet's headquarters).  He
then let the Super-Destructve Carnivorous Gerbil from Glucose VII out of
its cage.  Suddenly, the walls started to tremble, as if the ceiling was
about to collapse.

     "Knock it off, Stu." said Murgletwit.  The rumbling stopped.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

     As our intrepid adventurers were zipping along on their way to
Minot (no exclamation this time.  WOW!), they were suddenly confronted
with a crisis of incredible proportions:

     "HEY, Guys!  We're outta BEER!"

     "Screeeeeeeech!" said the tires of the Bertolucci 500 as Bubba (who
happens to be driving, I don't know why) slams on the breaks, bringing
the car from 120+ mph to 0 in less time than it takes a New York cabbie
to turn a 90-degree corner at 50 mph (never accurately measured, but
estimated to be less than .00000000000345 seconds)

     But I digress.....

     After much panic and all-around confusion, it was discovered that
they were NOT, in fact, out of beer, but rather that the rest of it was
hidden beneath the microwave oven in Louie's flight bag.  It was also
discovered that the previous owner of the car (now dead) had left a few
hundred cans in the trunk, back seat, glove compartment, etc, anyway.
With this little dilemna solved, our brave adventurers once more set out
for that Oh-so-quaint little city called Minot.


Ha!  I'll never tell........but keep reading SFStory, anyway!

***** Entry appended 20:33 on Sat, 05/21/88 by UD140680 at NDSUVM1  # 235 *****
Subject:     Wherein the mystery woman is explained
From:        Eric, Lord Sabre (BURNS at MAINE)

     Meeedlbaum Quarzitonix of Anthrax IV was busy munching on a candy
bar and wishing like crazy that he had never volunteered for the
experiment he was now inexorably forced to continue.
     The ruling council of Anthrax IV had made it plain and simple,
in their somewhat decietful description of the grand experiment.  "We
just want to check the conditions on Necomprendpas IIIb--nothing to
worry about!  Why, its as safe as houses after a few years of rainy
weather and termites...heh heh, just a little joke--any adverse conditions
in the planet's atmosphere will EASILY be taken care of by your Warp
Ship's Electrostatic Deflector just sign this contract
and this Life Insurance Policy...."
     The basterds would be netting three or four million Galactibucks
for his "disappearence and presumed death!"
     "Hello there!"
     Meeedlbaum spun and looked at the voice.  Realising that even on
Necomprendpas IIIb it was funtionally impossible to see a voice, he
decided to look instead at the producer of the above voice.  By then of
course, the said producer had arrived, knocked him down, and was holding
what appeared to be a small antipersonel multicountry depopulator on him.
     "Hello..." he said somewhat nervously, as the large silver weapon
had that look on it that meant absolute death should its holder even sneeze
at the wrong time.
     "I'll do the talking, except when I TELL you to talk," the holder
     "Yes, of course."  Looking at the somewhat dangerous person,
Meeedlebaum realised that it was a human female, blond hair, blue eyes,
in her mid-twenties, wearing a ragged Time Police uniform.
     "All right, who are you and where are we?"
     "I'm Meeedlbaum Quarzitonix of Anthrax IV, and we are on
Necomprendpas IIIb.  I'm part of an experiment, to see what conditions
are on this planet."
     "That's suicide!  This planet is apparently caught in an anti-
physics field--nothing is constent, except living matter and things on
their person."
     "Well, that would certainly explain the Life Insurace Policy
the Scientific Cartel made me sign."
     "Indeed...well, we're in this together," she sheathed her weapon,
and extended a hand to help him up.  "I'm Trudy Tetwaters, Time Police
     "Nice to meet you, Major Tetwaters.  How did you get here?"
     "I was sent back from the year 1998 by Time Police Headquarters
to investigate a possibly disastorous alteration of the past."
     "The past?"
     "Well, your present, my past.  I'm from the future, which is
my present, and I traveled to your present, which is my past, to prevent
any alteration of my past, though still your future, right now, from
damaging the present.  You see?"
     "Never mind."
     "So what you're saying, Major Tetwaters, is that in the future,
though not as far ahead as you come from, there will be an event which
might not go the way your past indicates it must, which will change the
future present you come from?"
     "What's the event?"
     "The destruction of the Destructionvax5 Computer Mainframe."
     "What?  Oh wow!  What should happen?"
     "It gets nuked, and peace comes to the Galaxy."
     "And what might happen instead?"
     "The attempt fails, and by accident, all the Cornell computer
systems are destroyed, plunging the galaxy into a new Dark Age."
     "Gasp!" gasped Meeedlbaum.  The Cornell Computers held the delicate
framework of the univere's structure in their omnipotent datanetworks!
(This fact, of course, has never been noticed whatsoever by any of the
staff or students at Cornell University, who never thought to ask why
the college had so MANY computers....)
     "Well," Trudy said, "I can't help save the universe without getting
off this planet.  The Time HQ Temporal Transporter Terminal had a hissy
fit and I landed here, instead of on the Challenger II.  Where's your
     Meeedlbaum pointed to a palpating mass of tenderals and ARA food.
"That was a WarpShip until I landed--then the Antiphysics hit it and--"
     "Vomit city...I see."
     Suddenly, the patch of ground the two were standing on for no
apparent reason beyond the author's getting bored with the current
goings on altered itself into a giant killer Pat Sajak and began to
pummel the twomercilessly.
     "Needlewarp!" shouted Trudy.
     "SHIT!" shouted Meeedlbaum.
     "WOULD YOU LIKE TO BUY A VOWEL?????!!!!!!!" shouted Pat, who
smashed the two with the Big Wheel.
     Trudy, her massive amounts of Time Police Training coupled with
he Space Heroism degree (she switched majors from sidekicking at the
end of her Sophmore year--I.E. two years from now) enabled her to
whip out her weapon and fire her big weapon.  The energies warped out
like spagetti on hallucenagens and struck pat, causing him to revert to
a normal looking tree.
     "Hey?" said Meeedlebaum, "what happened?"
     "Apparently...the energies Neutranized it!"
     "It what?"
     "Neutranized...particle reversal--it began to follow physics again."
     "Oh, what is that thing, anyway?"
     "My Ghostbusters Original Dire Apocalyptic Whirlwind Flux
Unidirectional Lotsodeath."
     "Your what?"
     "My GODAWFUL."
     "Oh..." said Meeedlebaum, suddenly glad she hadn't accidently
pulled the trigger when she was pointing it at him.  It was the little
things in life that made Meeedlebaum very, very happy.
     "Hey," she said, "Let's test something.  Throw your candy bar out
there--away from either of us."
     Meeedlebaum complied.
     The candy bar landed, realised it was in an anti-physics field,
and rather petulantly became a four legged very small buul moose humming
Louie Louie.
     Setting her GODAWFUL on "Only Moderate Property Damage," Trudy
fired at the Moose.  It promptly became a candy bar again.
     Suddenly the tree that had been Pat Sajak turned into a Candy
Apple Red Ferrari and drove away, Vanna White at the wheel.  It then
promptly blew up, reciving a judious round of applause from various rocks.
     But enough wish fufillment.
     Trudy looked at it, and looked at the candy bar (now a bipedal
Canadian Flag.)
     "Obviously, the Neutrainization effect only lasts a limited time,
probably corresponding roughly with the amount of GODAWFUL radiation
that it should accumulate.  Still, we should be able to escape in your
WarpShip before the effect wears off."
     "We should?"
     "Well, even odds."
     "Even odds?"
     "Well, one in one-fifty million."
     "No thanks, I'd rather stay here...besides, I'm getting to like
it, it's like a video on MTV (Mental Trans Visual network.)"
     "Suit yourself."  Trudy stepped up to the pile of tenderals and
ARA food, set her GODAWFUL to "Unnessecarily Violent" and shot the
ship up--restoring it to a new model WarpShip, which she promptly
boarded and took off.
     Meeedlebaum watched it go, and felt vaugely sad, until a rock
spontaniously became a pile of Psychadelic drugs which made Meeedlebaum
feel much better, even though none of his trip was any wierder than the
landscape he was in before.


All this and much much much more on the astounding, incredible,
ultimate discussion--SFSTORY CSNOTICE, the Hyperbole network!

***** Entry appended 13:24 on Sun, 05/22/88 by BURNS at MAINE       # 236 *****
Subject:     Wherin the destination of the Challenger II is revealed
From:        Eric, Lord Sabre (BURNS at MAINE)

     The Challenger II and the HMS Millenium Badger sped towards their
unknown destination much faster than even a Candy-apple-red Lambourgani
could navigate a cop and traffic free interstate.
     Inside the T.S. Challenger II, Captain Steve Vogel, USAF, NASA, was
busy using any means besides death to awaken the cometose Lameduck, who
did know where they were going.  In the background, Lucky the Mutant
Ship's Cat was busy contemplating his inner eyelids.
     On board the HMS Millenium Badger Matt was busy trying to jumpstart
his omniscient computer account (superbrain at oracle2) to find out the
destination mentioned above, while Linda Madisen, ex-NASA computer op and
generally sweet and illiterate Paladin, tryed in vain to get Galahad (the
disgruntled Ships Computer--galahad at hprcrsrvax) to acknowledge any idea
of the destination buried in his computers.
     Matt turned to Linda, sighing.  "It's no good--all Superbrain says
is 'Gimme some time, white boy!'  I think we had better try to call for
     Linda nodded, and punched up communications.  "HMS Millenium Badger
to HMS Golden Lance, come in!"
     The recorded sound of Val's voice came on.  =You have reached the
HMS Golden Lance.  None of us are in this dimension right now, and we
may not be in this time period.  If you would leave your name and
Hailing Frequency at the tone, we will attempt to get back to you,
assuming our survival.=
     Linda sighed and explained the situation.
     She then punched in the next call-code.  "HMS Millenium Badger
to Camolot Command.  Come in Toni!"
     She repeated this a few times before deciding that indeed, there
was no one there.
     Sighing again, she punched in a third code.  "HMS Millenium Badger
to HMS Rocket Racer V.  Come in please."
     With the rasp of utterly antiquated equipment, a voice came over
the system.  "QQQQQUUUwwwweeersh--cket Racer V here, Millenium Chipmunk.
This is Space Commander Buzz Williams, go ahead."
     Linda smiled--at last someone was home.  "Space Commander Williams,
this is Linda Madisen--we need assistance.  We are currently on a mission
to destroy the Destructionvax5 computer satillite.  However, we cannot
get anywhere, as we have had our navicomps reprogrammed--we are on an
unknown course and the only member of either of our ships--the Millenium
Badger or the T.S. Challenger II--who can tell us what our destination
is has apparently passed out.  Can you assist?"
     "Whhhrrriiii--ove to, Millenium Chipmunk, but I'm afraid we're all
on a mission to save a succubus!  Sorry!"
     "A succubus?  Toni????"
     Bzzzz--yeah, we did pick her up at CamCom didn't we.  Yup, Toni's
her name all right.  Hey, do you have the Coordinates to Hell?"
     "Um, no, sorry, we don't.  We'll have to get them from Superbrain,
but he's out."
     "Hey," said Matt, "didn't he already ask us that?"
     "Hm?  Oh yeah, I did...sorry!  HMS Rocket Racer V over and out!"
     Linda turned and looked at Matt.  "We're on our own," she said.
     "Oh bloody fantastic!"
     Suddenly, the communications console twirped expectantly.  Linda
snapped the "recieve incoming message" switch, praying it was 357.
     "Matt, Linda, this is Steve!"
     "Oh," said Linda, somewhat dejectedly.
     "Look out your main viewport, guys!"
     The two leapt into their chairs and looked.  Their mouths dropped
in awe.
     "Thlump" went their jaws.
     Ahead of them, instead of the standerd Hyperspace Special effects,
was a silver white corridor of such beauty and magisty that you never in
your life would think Industrial Light and Magic did good FX again.
     "Incredible," murmered Matt.
     "Its heaven," murmered Linda.
     "Well, I wouldn't go that far," murmered Matt.
     "Really--I've been to heaven, we fought one of the Big Battles
there...this is the route to heaven."  murmered Linda.
     "Wow, did you hear that, Steve?" murmered Matt.
     "Sure did," murmered Steve.
     "Mieow," murmered Lucky.
     "Ohhhh, my head--hey, we're almost there," murmered Lameduck.
     "WHAT?????!!!!!" shouted everyone, including Lucky, who were all
sick of murmering anyhow.
     "Hey, where would you go to find out information that even Omniscient
Computer accounts couldn't decypher?  eh?  c'mon, you Whippersnappers,
lemme hear it!"
     No one named anything--it was a sound plan.
     Suddenly, there was a rumbling on board the HMS Millenium Badger.
Matt and Linda immediatly pressed the "Tell the people what's wrong
     "Oh no!" shouted Matt, "we've hit an Ionized Tachyon Hyperspace
Storm we--"
     He stopped shouting the moment communications was lost.  Uncontollably,
the HMS Millenium Badger flew off course and shot towards unknown space.
     The T.S. Challenger II was not in Hyperspace but instead in Suprareal
Space, and therefore wasn't affected.  However, they also could not
help the HMS Millenium Badgerescape their own fate.  Resignedly, they
settled down to continue their journey to the lands of Happiness.


Probably not.

***** Entry appended 14:37 on Sun, 05/22/88 by BURNS at MAINE       # 237 *****
Subject:     Where the gang gets back together
From:        The Cowboy (THC8650 at TNTECH)

On a planet known to the author as Latigid and to most of the reading
audience as "that silly planet where he keeps sticking characters he doesn't
want to fool with" Time Agent 357 and Doctor Bing Von Spleen stared into the
campfire (I guess they either outran some trees or hacked up a few dogs)
while they waited for something to happen.

Suddenly, something happened.

Two somethings, in fact.

The HMS Crow suddenly materialized beside them in the clearing.  The ship
was a bit dirty from the trip through 300 years, but the torrential rain
that its arrival caused due to temporal fluctuations quickly cleaned it.
Ensign Varney of the Interstellar Time Police stepped out of the ship,
pressed the "return to past" button on the ramp, and scurried toward the
fire, which was now sputtering fitfully in the rain.

"Sputter," said the fire fitfully.

"That was my old ship!" exclaimed 357.  "What was it doing here?"

"The Cowboy was trying to straighten out some inconsistancies in his
postings," said Doctor Spleen.

"How did you know that?"

"I'm not an expert in Spamology for nothing."

"What does Spamology have to do with plot consistancy?"

Varney took this opportunity to pass out, falling face first into the fire,
where his body began to sizzle menacingly.

"Sizzle," said his body mena -"Quit personifying your inanimate objects and
help him out!" shouted 357 at the author.  Oh, that's me.  Let's see...

The HMS Golden Lance materialized, its temporal fluctuations causing an
extreme drop in temperature, which put out the fire (and Varney) and gave
357 and the Doctor minor frostbite (nobody's perfect).  Fortunately 357 kept
his wits about him and, grabbing Doctor Spleen in one hand and Varney in the
other, ran aboard the ship.

=If you had waited, I could have teleported you aboard,= chided Val, the
ship's VAL 9000 computer, in her synthetic (but thoroughly feminine) voice.

Depositing the tall skinned humanoid (Varney) and the clean-complexioned
Spamologist (Doctor Spleen) in sickbay, 357 headed for the command center.

=Don't you require medical assistance as well?=

"Nope, having parents who were (are) immortal has certain advantages.  Even
though I'm not immortal, I'm hard as hell to kill or even injure."  He held
his hand up to the monitor, showing Val how the frostbitten skin was peeling
off and being replaced by healthy skin.  "How are you for Spam?"

=I was running low, but luckily Varney brought back about four tons with him
aboard the HMS Crow.  He was so busy passing out he must have forgotten to
mention it.=

"Either that or the author was having a rough night at work and can't keep
his attention centered on this entry."

=In any case, I'm loading it now.  We should be ready for lift off by the
start of the next posting.=

"Good, check our EMAIL"

=You want it verbatum?=

"No, just the highlights."

=Working...= said Val, making some whirr click computer noises similar to
those found in the original Star Trek series.

=Mail from Time Central.  A Time Police Major Trudy Tetwaters has been sent
back to this time period to insure the destruction of destructionvax5.
Central has lost contact with her.  We're supposed to keep an eye out.=

"Okay, what else?"

=Recorded message from Linda Madison aboard the Badger.  They're trying to
locate the destructionvax5 mainframe but are encountering difficultites.
The transmission is garbled, so they've probably encountered some really
weird sh- er, very extreme circumstances.=

"Anything more?"

=An invitation from St. Peter to attend Club Nympho's Amatuer Night.=

"RSPV Peter and try to locate Madison and her group.  And check records for
the location of the destructionvax5 mainframe.  Anything else?"

=SEX CSNOTICE is having a discussion about waterbeds.=

"I'll check that one later.  Anything else official?


"Okay, let me know when you locate the Badger or destructionvax5," said 357,
who promptly began to snore.

Val checked her records, where, not surprisingly, she found nothing about
the location of destructionvax5.  She did, however, find out where it was
not, and, using the process of elimination, began composing a list of places
it could be, simultaneously discovering the brain chemical imbalance that
caused the author to use so many commas to, unobtrusively, break the flow of
his sentences.

Will 357 find destructionvax5, thereby blowing Lord Sabre's new plotline?
Will they be ready to take off by the start of the next episode?
Does everyone really think the last episode of Star Trek:  The Next
Generation was so bad?

I liked it

***** Entry appended 23:37 on Sun, 05/22/88 by THC8650 at TNTECH    # 238 *****
From:        Nathan Irwin (UD140680 at NDSUVM1)

     Thanks to their newly-stolen Bertolucci 500, Louie, Bubba, and Zark
reached Minot, North Dakota by about oh..., 3:15 in the afternoon.  As
soon as they arrived, they noticed that the entire town was deserted.
Since they had already seen TWO deserted towns in North Dakota, THIS was
certainly nothing new.

     "Probably got kidnapped....." said Louie.

     "By aliens in little green spaceships." Bubba finished.

     "Hey, guys," said Zark, "look at the airplane up the sky."

     "WHUMP-bump!" said the earth as Zark lost what little consciousness
he possesed, hit the ground, bounced, and hit the ground again.

     Louie and Bubba looked up.  "That's no PLANE!" yelled Louie, even
though Bubba was standing only three feet away and could already hear him
quite well, thank you, "That's some kind of SATELLITE!!  It must've been
SPYING on us!"

     "Yup." agreed Bubba.  "Let's WASTE it."

     So, Louie drew his Atomic Rubber Band Shooter (balh, blah, blah...),
Bubba pulled out his Personal Nuker, and both of them proceeded to blast
the dickens out of the poor, defenseless satellite.

     "Piff." said the satellite as it blew apart and rained little bits
of metal on Minot, North Dakota, none of which even came CLOSE to our
heroes (thanks to a rather arbitrary decision by the author).

     Deep in his underground lab, Doctor Ivan Biggfeet cursed Louie and
Bubba, as well as several of their ancestors, making several references
to the spieces and sexual equipment of said ancestors.  He also tortured
one of his underlings, just for fun.

     Shortly before 5 pm, Zark woke up again (Louie and Bubba, who had
been drinking beer and talking about women, gave him a standing ovation
for it, too), and the three of them began searching the town.  Not
surprisingly, everyone in town was gone.  I mean GONE!  I mean, there
was, like, NOBODY around, and NO way to try and figure out where in the
heck they'd gone to.  I mean, they were as gone as you can possibly
imagine, and then a few times more gone than even THAT.

     I guess what I'm trying to say here is that there weren't a heck of
a lot of people around.

     After about four hours of searching, as the sun was starting to
set, the brave adventurers decided to knock off for the day, as a more
immediate crisis had arisen.

     "Guys," said Bubba, "I don't know about YOU, but I'VE really gotta
GO.  I mean, I gotta go BAD.  Let's find us a john somewhere."

     Louie and Zark hastily agreed, suddenly remembering the rather
excessive amounts of beer they had drunk earlier.

     After about five minutes of searching, they managed to find an
abandoned Amoco station.  Bubba quickly ran around to the station's
Men's room, opened the door, and ran in.  Needless to say, he was rather
quite surprised to find himself NOT in a Men's room, but in the secret
laboratory of Doctor Ivan Biggfeet!!

     "Guards!" yelled Doctor Biggfeet, "Intruders in the Lab!  Get here

     "Holy SHIT!" yelled Bubba, for no apparent reason.

     About ten seconds later, twenty small aliens (all of them bearing a
striking resemblance to Howard Cosell) broke into the room, through the
door opposite Bubba.  At the same time, Louie and Zark entered behind

     "Twenty-one to three," said Louie.  "Oughtta be no problem.  Whaddya
YOU guys think?"

     "Ugggh." said Zark, who, as a result, did NOT pass out.

     "Whimper." said a small voice which seemed to be Bubba's.

     (Rather than trying to describe the battle which occurrs right about
here, I will simply give you the results.  Nineteen Howard-Cosell-like
aliens dead.  One Howard-Cosell-like alien mortally wounded.  One Doctor
Ivan Biggfeet surprised and scared shitless.  One otherwise nice-looking
lab, with lots of beakers, test tubes, bunsen burners, and so on,
completely trashed.)

     (OH!  And Zark stubbed a toe.)

     Suddenly, two more beings entered the room.  One was Murgletwit,
Dr. Biggfeet's chief underling.  The other was the Super-destructive,
Carnivorous Gerbil from Glucose VII.

     "NOW you can't escape, humans." shouted Murgletwit. "You'll be
Freddy's next meal!!"

     "Freddy?" inquired Louie.

     "The Super-Destructive, Carnivorous Gerbil from Glucose VII you
fool!!" yelled Murgletwit. "THIS thing!  He'll eat you alive!"

     "Oh." said Louie, unable to think of anything else.


Better them than ME, pal.
Read SFSTORY or I'll break your arm!

***** Entry appended 00:28 on Mon, 05/23/88 by UD140680 at  at NDSUVM1  # 239 *****
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